CHINA> Focus
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CHINA> Focus
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Tide of "modernization" on the ebb in old Beijing
(Xinhua)
Updated: 2008-07-24 15:47 The map of Beijing on Zhang Wei's wall is turning black, as though being eaten away by a tumor. The 31-year-old has used the map to track the destruction of the Chinese capitals ancient hutongs (lanes) and siheyuan (traditional courtyard houses), marking the site of each demolition with a black pen.
The tumor metaphor fits in with his view of Beijing as a living entity in its own right. "The hutongs are the blood vessels while siheyuan are the cells of Beijing," says the slightly built Zhang who walks around his home, the base for the conservation website oldbeijing.org, in traditional black slippers, now usually favored only by the elderly. Zhang founded the website eight years ago after watching his childhood home in a hutong named East Banbi Street being reduced to rubble and dust under the bulldozers. He managed to rescue a piece of a delicately carved wooden window frame. "It had not changed a lot in the last 120 years," says Zhang.
He treasures the frame piece in his new apartment, where he operates the website dedicated to preserving images and memories of hutong life. The non-profit project has become a virtual old Beijing for more than 16,000 registered users, with a file of more than 1 million photos and 45 million words. "Beijing is changing too fast," says Zhang, who photographs the disappearing hutong with his team of dedicated amateur conservationists every weekend. Too often they just find ruins, he says. Much of the wood and brick old city has fallen victim to a relentless drive for modernization that has been realized in a series of steel and glass image-boosting buildings and a network wide highways and avenues. The destruction began in the 1950s after architect Liang Sicheng (1901-1972) failed to persuade Chinese leaders to build the new downtown Beijing outside the old city. Since then, many old walls have received the white painted "To be demolished" character, and disappeared days after. Standing at the end of East Rongxian Hutong, the shining egg-shaped National Centre for the Performing Arts looks like an alien spaceship. It joins other modern or post-modern buildings, such as the Water Cube (National Aquatics Center), the Bird's Nest (the National Stadium) and the China Central Television (CCTV) Tower, in a list of new landmarks.
All of these buildings have been opened in the last two years, except for the CCTV Tower, which is still under construction. But thanks to the efforts of Zhang and like-minded campaigners, the city is beginning to realize the value of its architectural heritage -- and looking to strike a balance between preservation and modernization. It consulted a think tank comprising more than a dozen experts on architectural history and town planning, including Luo Zhewen, 84, a student of Liang Sicheng. In 2000, the municipal government announced its most ambitious plan to date to preserve the old city, promising 330 million yuan (US$48 million) over the next three years to repair and preserve old buildings. It ordered the preservation of dozens of parts of downtown Beijing, taking 37 percent of the ancient city area. In 2002, this was revised to 42 percent. Cao Yuejin, who sits on the city planning committee, says, "Beijing needs to be modernized, and also traditional. The city needs to be balanced, and this guides the government's efforts." However, the modernizers argue, "traditional" should not mean communal toilets and water facilities for hutong residents. The deprivations of hutong life are well-documented. Writer Liu Xinwu famously detailed the discomforts of freezing winters in a siheyuan, and the inconvenience of traipsing through all weathers to go to the toilet. The conservationists should understand that many hutong dwellers wanted the better living conditions that modern apartments offered, Liu wrote. "Beijing used to be protected in an inappropriate way," says Cao. "We are aiming to create a comfortable living environment." Instead tearing down whole hutongs, the government made plans to rebuild dangerous siheyuan, defining the property rights, and opening the hutongs to commercial uses such as shops, hotels and bars. "There will be no more large scale demolitions, even outside the protection areas," says Cao. "The culture of hutongs will be protected in accordance with the living patterns of the residents." Under the pressure of a population swelling with the tide of rural migrants, the authorities have drawn up plans to extend the urban area. Three "new cities" will be built in the northeast Shunyi District, the eastern Tongzhou District and the southern Yizhuang District. "Beijing needs space to develop under the increasing pressure. The rapid speed of development is forcing the city to change," says Cao. The new spirit of conservation has prominent supporters among the very people who stand to gain most from modernization -- the architects. One of the architects changing Beijing, Australian John Bilmon, who designed the Water Cube, is blunt: "I feel sad to see the destruction of the hutongs." Bilmon says he has tried to adopt elements of Chinese culture in the Water Cube "The Water Cube represents water while the Bird's Nest with its red lights stands for fire, which are the two elements of traditional Chinese geomancy, Fengshui," he says. The Cube also symbolizes the earth and the Nest the sky according to the ancient Chinese concept of universe in which the earth is square-shaped and the sky is round. Bilmon was delighted when the site of the Water Cube was moved 100 meters in order to preserve an ancient temple dating from the Ming Dynasty. "I'm glad to see Beijingers have realized the need to protect their history," he says. "I love cycling through the old hutongs. I enjoy the sunshine and tranquility in the narrow lanes away from the noisy outside world. "I see two Beijings here. One is the fast-developing modern Beijing, and the other is the quiet traditional Beijing," adds Bilmon. Many of the "Olympic homestay" households designated as accommodation for foreigners showcase the modernization of the ancient hutong homes. "My home is centuries old, but it has clean toilets, computers, televisions and a refrigerator," says Wang Zhixi, owner of an Olympic homestay. Her siheyuan in Dajinsi Hutong near the Shichahai lake area is handy to one of Beijing's burgeoning new bar and nightlife districts. Wang and her husband, who both claim descent from Qing Dynasty nobility, have decorated their home with traditional Chinese paintings. "We can both enjoy the birds' singing in the old yard just as Beijingers used to do and enjoy the convenience of modern life," Wang says. |
