Shades of Shanghai, Part 1: Navigating Narrow Alleys

I thought this time I would combine some of my thoughts from conversations I've had for my project with some images and experiences I've had around my home city and then give a few thoughts about life here in China. However after writing for a while, I saw that clearly this post was going to be extremely long even by my standards, so I decided to break it up into two parts. Part 2 will follow soon.

Let me start by saying that Shanghai is unlike any other city I've ever visited or lived in. The city has such a dichotomy between the new and old areas. It at once maintains temples from hundreds of years ago and a massive amount of ongoing and recent construction. I read today that by 2015, half of the residential building stock here will have been built since 2000. This fact is incredible in my opinion. But I guess it is unsurprising when you add 1.5-2 billion square meters of floor space each year; in 2005 alone Shanghai added more floor space in residential and commercial towers than all of New York City. And much of this is at the expense of older areas of the city, areas that many would argue have historic value and should be preserved. But who is arguing for preservation and why? Certainly I think that we can agree that Buddhist and Taoist temples in the city should be saved. After all, these are places of worship which for many are the end points of pilgrimages from across town or an important stop on a family trip from another region. At the Temple of the City God, I witnessed a devoted young man faithfully light incense and carefully arrange each stick in the urn for offerings before the prayer ritual and then after place it lovingly in the pot of offerings to the god, all while his girlfriend watched silently from a corner--I don't think Taoism was her religion. So such temples are important, and let's face it, they also garner a pretty penny or two for the city from foreigners led by the Lonely Planet.

But what about the rest of these old buildings? Well, let me first try to paint a picture of what the older parts of Shanghai look like. There are really two scenes in the old parts of Shanghai that you will find. One is idyllic--it is what you imagine classical China to look like. Qibao is the main district that epitomizes this style. Buildings with broad, upturned eaves line narrow streets with street vendors peddling all kinds of souvenirs and foods. Little museums and preserved buildings hide tucked away between the loud stalls, and if you find your way out of the crowded alleys, you might be able to catch a breath along the canal side. That's right--Shanghai has old style canals in this district, though they are, to my understanding, all that remain. The Yuyuan Gardens and Bazaar is another example of this old style of architecture, though as you'll see below, some of the current tenants of these classical buildings are in no sense Chinese--it is truly a sign of globalization when you can find Dairy Queen and Starbucks in Old Town Shanghai.

Then there is another side to Old Town Shanghai which is a bit less populated, a bit less glamorous, and more off the beaten path. If you follow the Lonely Planet's walking tours, it will direct your feet down some of these back alleys. Here, houses are crammed together with dark, narrow hallways leading from alleys draped with drying clothing into what I can only presume is the main room of the house. The hallways are often nearly impassable due to the stoves, chairs, and bicycles packed inside. Some buildings have a second floor, perhaps for bedrooms, perhaps for other residents. Of these, many are more recent construction--concrete and corrugated tin primarily--though some are older shikumen homes, a more traditional style with tiled roofs and often elaborate entrances. The images below show not these, but the other, more common alleys.

Recent constructions along narrow alleys like those shown above make up a significant portion of the housing in Shanghai. Much has been destroyed to make way for urbanization and progress, but many still remain as housing for the city's urban poor.

Now for a more critical look at these areas. Certainly many have historic value, or do they? According to Hannes Pfau at UNStudio, developments of both types shown above made up the majority of the area known as Pudong back in the 1980s. At that time, the major theoretical architects in the US decried China's plan to rip out these classic houses and replace them with gleaming glass buildings and and economic development zone. In their view, it was as if the heart and soul of Shanghai was being demolished. But in China, there was no uproar, not even over the upturned eaves and pagoda-style structures. In fact, people wanted the development of Pudong rather than preservation of these spaces. So why the disparity?

It's actually easy to understand when you consider lifestyles in these houses. Many of the older homes are without running water and sewage systems. Public toilets are necessary to provide a hygienic method of waste disposal. At the time Pudong was built, electricity was not present in the homes either. Today, many have light bulbs and appliances, but one walk inside will make you think that the ESW handiwork in Kenya was to code. (For those who don't know what I'm talking about, check out the team's blog at hmckenya.blogspot.com.) Put another way, dangling wires and rat's nests of plugs droop from rafters and walls. Where wires are strapped to the wall, it is with tape, and where the other ends lead, no one knows. Now, think that in many of these houses multiple families or multiple generations were packed together, and in some cases still are. Life was and remains in these areas very communal. It is not uncommon to see one couple cooking for multiple families and then joining them around a small rickety table in the alley for dinner. Now tell me, would you live in these houses even with the historic value and pretty exterior? And more importantly, is this way of life environmentally, economically, and socially sustainable in a rapidly growing city?

Hannes says that people wanted out. A combination of being fed up with the living conditions and the hope of a new future with the new development and the Cultural Revolution in the 1950s and 60s cutting ties with much of China's Imperial past led to a desire for change. Hannes continued that even if you had wanted to retrofit these houses, you couldn't. The condition of the buildings was so poor that in trying to put in sewers, water, and electricity, if you punched a hole in the wall you were likely to knock the whole wall down. Jaime Casanova at URBN Hotel commented as well that people here don't care about historic value. He lives in an older property because, as he says, he didn't move here from Madrid to live in an apartment identical to what he had there. But he constantly gets asked why he doesn't buy a new home when he can afford it. I've heard many times now from my meetings that there is a strong preference for new things and new buildings here in China. Older buildings deteriorate and the people wait for the government to come in and knock them down to rebuild. As Jaime said, the new generation is starting to think about historic value, but it may be another 40 years before we get there. Judging from some of the commercial streets here and the patrons, it seems to me that the younger generation too are enamored with new and Western items.

So what does this mean for sustainability in Shanghai? Well, that's an interesting question. The first instinct is often to say that new buildings are by and large more efficient than older buildings. But that is Western thinking based on what we have built in the last few centuries. In Shanghai, when we talk about these older developments, we're talking about homes that have very low impact--no electricity and very little water use. Granted there are the sewage issues and wood or charcoal burned for cooking, but on the whole the living standard is low and so is the resource intensity. And while Pudong may now be filled with high-quality office space, what of the rest of these old developments? After all, they did once span the extent of Shanghai. Well, to answer the question of what became of them I need to look no further than out my window.

Yes, the majority of these residential spaces are giving way to, well, new residential space. It's no surprise considering that Shanghai's population is expected to double to 46 million by 2030 that 80% of new buildings are residential. High-rises are the trend here, like the one I live in which I mentioned in my first post. While that looks good on paper--higher density living means less sprawl--as I discussed previously, these buildings have the benefits of electricity and running water without any of the most basic resource saving measures. There is no insulation, no central heating, no central cooling, and very poor sealing between windows, walls, and roofs. While they do have natural light in most rooms and typically have cross ventilation (I'm told this is a combination of mandates from the government and the fact that natural light and ventilation are part of the cultural perception of a good building. I think it is because all of the villas and great houses incorporated it, and it was a good way to have light and cooling before electricity which in many parts of China wasn't long ago), they lack in all other sustainable features. In fact, many consume 1.5-2 times as much energy per square meter as residential space in the West and are set to consume even more as the energy use per capita rises with the standard of living--it is still one-quarter to one-third of that of many developed nations. So by tearing down these old houses China is providing much needed space for these cramped families with better amenities but they are doing at the expense of air quality and energy security.

The upside is that with all of this construction there is great potential to change the way residential spaces are built. It is possible to go from the old neighborhoods to nice, new, healthy, green developments, but the incentives are not there. Property is flipped so quickly here and ownership structures are often complicated to the point where chasing energy efficiency is difficult. Developers don't finish the shells they build because the buyers feel more comfortable with the quality if they finish it. That means no central systems and sometimes no piping in the unit--just a spigot to connect to. Even if this wasn't the case, with massive urbanization and real estate speculation, developers make a profit even with the worst buildings so why build better? And owners typically don't hold on to apartments much longer--3 years is about the trend, so even a 2 year payback period for efficiency may be too long. But that is if the tenants even know about efficiency. Most of those I've met with agree that resource efficiency is not present in the minds of the population here. You won't find books at the bookstore about "Going Green" and certainly no whole section devoted to sustainability as you now find in Borders and Barnes and Noble. Economics drives action here--frugality is a deeply ingrained tenet of Chinese culture, so there is hesitance to pay for large up front costs on efficiency, especially if you don't know if you'll still live there 2 years down the road. Certainly more education is needed, perhaps by activating cultural teachings from Confucianism that preach a harmonious balance between man and nature, but can we really count on a bottom up grassroots sustainable revolution in China?

So if the consumers don't know about green, then what about developers? Certainly there are a few like Landsea Corporation that are building greener homes, but most are not. Government mandates on energy efficiency and building codes are unenforceable due to the low number of inspectors relative to the amount of construction and corruption at the local level. I was told by a couple of sources that construction often begins before the construction documents are even drawn up and registered--conceptual drawings are sufficient to lay foundations and begin mixing the concrete. I guess since concrete is used for everything, you might as well start right away! Some feel confident that this can change. They say China is just lagging behind the Western world and maybe in 10 or 20 years they will have the enforcement. After all, as Dolf Joekes of Capture said, "Everything in China happens as if in a pressure cooker. If Japan [industrialized and created building codes] in 30 years, China can do it in 20 or less." Others are less optimistic. Only time will tell I suppose, but one thing is clear--the current path is unsustainable. It uses 30% more concrete than China can produce (and they are the leading concrete producer in the world) and is rapidly consuming more and more energy to the point where by 2030, China, with 20% of world population may be responsible for 40% of the carbon emissions.

And what of historic spaces? Well, if you're like the architects of the 80s clamoring for protection and ready to buy a plane ticket to see them before they're all gone, rest assured that some of this endangered species are being preserved. The pictures above show that tourism is an effective way of preserving cultural heritage even in a city rapidly growing inward and upward. I don't think the Yuyuan Gardens and Bazaar, Qibao, or the Temples will be leaving any time soon. But for the rest, it takes a visionary investor to save the shikumen from the bulldozer. Two such projects are my favorite expat hangout, Xintiandi, and Jaime's URBN Hotel. Xintiandi is a collection of shikumen houses barely saved from destruction to create a commercial park when the developer realized that he could put a shopping and nightlife street here with clever renovations, added decor, and restoration of the cobblestone street. It is now one of the hippest places in Shanghai and home to great restaurants, boutique shops, and rock and jazz clubs.

URBN is another excellent example of historic renovation that puts a sustainable spin on history. With a mission to be the first carbon neutral hotel in Shanghai, the developers realized that gutting an old warehouse/post office would save emissions over a new structure. They finished the property with boards and stones saved from the demolition piles of old houses in the French Concession, and then got creative. Discarded woks found on the streets were cleaned, sanitized, and polished and used as light fixtures and decorations, old discarded fishing boats were chopped up and used for the back of the bar, and suitcases past their prime make up the wall behind check in. Combined with the latest in efficient HVAC, locally grown bamboo sunshading, and stonework from Suzhou, the hotel has drastically reduced the number of carbon credits it must buy to be carbon neutral. But before you go booking a stay in this green mecca in the gray city, be warned that it is a boutique hotel and rather pricey, but you do get to buy a tree when you check out to offset your own travel emissions.

The URBN model proves that we can get to sustainability through historic restoration. But restoration is not the silver bullet--we must knock down some old spaces simply to accommodate the massive influx of people if we want to manage urbanization while controlling sprawl. The challenge is finding a balance between preservation, renovation, and reconstruction. And when we do reconstruct, we must be sure to do so in a sustainable manner, but as you can see, there are numerous barriers to that at this point. I hope that in this long post I've given you something to think about in terms of the balance of historic, cultural spaces and sustainability/new construction. It is an important question for the transition of current cities to sustainable or "eco" cities and not an easy one to solve. Next time, I'll talk a bit about the other side of Shanghai (physically and figuratively) and its challenges, but for bearing with me through this long post, I'll leave you now with food for thought: an image of the old and new residences of Shanghai.