Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Shades of Shanghai, Part 2: Gleaming Glass Goliaths

This is the promised (and hopefully much anticipated!) part 2 of my "Shades of Shanghai" post. Lengthy though they may be, I hope these posts provide a glimpse into my environment and some of the issues that have arisen in my study of sustainability in this fascinating and unique urban environment. Last time I talked about the older areas of Shanghai and the residential sector as it appears today. This time, I focus on the commercial side--the glitz and glamor of the gleaming glass goliaths of Shanghai. I said last time that I would also give some thoughts on Shanghai, but those will now wait until another post simply so as not to inundate you with too much to read. As I'm sure you know by now, once I start writing it is hard for me to stop--I enjoy writing about this stuff too much.

Even as you navigate the streets of old Shanghai, there is a presence of the new city beyond. Perhaps it is that in old town you can actually see the rooftops and sky without lolling your head back as far as you it can go, but more likely it is that even as you stand surrounded by sweeping tiled roofs, if you life your gaze a bit there stand the towers of Pudong and Nanjing Rd.

From old town wander north a few blocks and you find yourself suddenly immersed in a new world. But twenty years ago, none of this would have been here--you would have still been among old narrow housing. So what happened? How did the city of Shanghai turn low-rise, low-rent neighborhoods into tree-lined avenues aglow with neon at night welcoming shoppers into mall after mall filled with tuxedo-clad workers bowing you into Armani, Dolce and Gabbana, Louis Vuitton, and Rolex?

Well, in the late 1980s and early 1990s the government decided that the best way to bring China out of its "backward" Mao-era policies was to boost the economy rapidly through foreign investment. Within the one-party system, promotion and tenure for officials and leaders of state-owned enterprises was based almost solely on how much GDP was boosted during their 3-5 year appointed position. One way the government helped to encourage foreign investment was by creating "development zones" where economic regulations and land tenure agreements were different than the rest of the country specifically to attract foreign firms. These development zones were largely intended for mass production facilities and resulted in massive sprawl and construction of industrial spaces that largely remained empty. The devastation was so bad, that the government began forcing the closure of these zones and returning them to farmland and ecological zones when they came under fire for their environmental policies.

In Shanghai, however, the development zones that were created were not for manufacturing but for financial services. Shanghai has a long history with financial services--the historic Bund along the Huangpu River was the center of French, British, and American trading throughout the late 19th century and on into the 20th century until everyone was chased out by political turmoil.

Though billed in some 1980s era government signs as a sore spot on the city's history (it was the most visible part of the essential colonization of the city by Westerners), Shanghai embraced this past to create its future. But rather than build quick warehouses, Shanghai brought in Western architects to build modern, Western buildings as symbols of the new Shanghai. As I mentioned in my last post, following the cultural turmoil of the mid-century, the government and the people had cut ties with their past and wanted new buildings. Chinese firms knew only limited construction and design methods, mostly because steel was still not widely used as a building material. It was pouring concrete and laying brick almost exclusively. Well the problem is that you can't just bring in Western architects to design a building and have Chinese contractors build it without problems. The different styles of the groups led to problems with design documents, construction methods, and materials procurement and handling, and resulted in Chinese firms often "adapting" the Western designs to what they knew. This last practice resulted in poorer material application or changes that drastically affected the building's performance.

Now this all got better quickly, partly with help from technology allowing architects to be more involved with projects and partly with construction companies adapting to the new techniques. The result is that in Shanghai in the last 20 years there has been an explosion of construction that has transformed the city. At a mixer last night, an engineer I spoke with said when he arrived 15 years ago a taxi driver mentioned that the city was going to develop Pudong, then a marshland recently designated for a financial zone. He and his wife thought the city was crazy. Well, if you've seen an image of the "Shanghai skyline" recently, that's Pudong. If you haven't, here's what it looks like:

The skyscrapers that have gone up are among the highest in Asia, and even the world. First it was the Oriental Pearl Tower:

Then the Jin Mao Tower (the pagoda-like one), and finally the World Financial Center:

Pudong now sports the worlds highest bar and observation deck in the World Financial Center. And these two are set to be dwarfed in 2014 by the Shanghai Tower. But it wasn't just on this side of the river that development went on. Not to be outdone, Nanjing Rd., historically a commercial street (though previously with two and three story buildings) developed quickly with high rises of its own such as Plaza 66 and more malls per block than I thought were possible. But then again, with financial development comes disposable income, and though per capita disposable income is still lower than in America, when you put 23 million people together, there is a lot of purchasing power, and the younger generations (learning from the West) are happy to throw off the ways of frugality of their parents and spend on bags, watches, clothing, and cars (if you ever come to Shanghai, I can direct you to the Maserati, Bentley, Aston Martin, and Ferrari showrooms).

So this all sounds great on paper--more income for the city, more companies doing business, and top tier office space presumable built to international standards. Well the problem is that some of those early buildings were not necessarily built as efficiently as possible, but worse, many of the trends we saw back then about challenges of East-West construction knowledge transfer are still present with respect to sustainable offices now. The difference is that back then, the government was willing to step in and offer subsidies to encourage foreign businesses to develop in Shanghai thus overcoming the higher cost associated with teaching new construction methods to a Chinese company. Now, though such funds are proclaimed in the laws coming out of Beijing, designers on the ground are not seeing them. In these top tier spaces, LEED and "green features" are seen predominantly as a marketing tool. Developers ask for LEED after a project has already been designed in many cases which either adds a lot of cost in redesign or means that the LEED documents have to be...creatively produced. Yet developers aren't willing to cross the threshold of increased upfront cost. They want LEED for less or the same price and in China, where most contractors are still unfamiliar with "green" design and materials, that last part can turn a building from green to brown. This is why a designer at Arup told me that the biggest challenge to green building in Shanghai is overcome when you have a client who says up front that he wants to do sustainable design and is willing to pay a little more for quality space.

Now I'm not insinuating that every LEED project here is corrupt, and there are a number of people, including Alex Bisagni at BEE, Inc. working to bridge this gap and bring LEED properly to new buildings in China. However, among my interviews I have met a number of professionals who are skeptical about the green features of many of these certified and top-tier projects. One window manufacturer said flatly that the average window in office buildings in Shanghai doesn't even come close to meeting the code. That means much higher energy use and cost associated with air conditioning and heating. And that's not something that can be easily retrofitted--in other words, if he's right, then Shanghai is locked in already to dealing with the high energy and environmental costs resulting from the East-West construction challenges in the past two decades. Furthermore in the 1990s and 2000s one of the predominant architectural trends was all glass facades on buildings. That means if he's right, it's a lot of surface area through which we're losing energy.

And the problem only gets worse from there. The increasing consumerism on Nanjing Rd. is a symptom of an overall desire for "Westernization" among Shanghai's youth. Just as Jaime and Hannes pointed out that the young aren't tied to historic architecture, they also aren't tied to their parents' frugal ways of shutting off lights and using natural ventilation. Every store advertises A/C by leaving their doors open and trying to cool the city with their 1 kW wall unit. And in office spaces, workers are becoming more accustomed to having temperatures set. Talk to Albert Wong of Envision Wall and he'll happily point out that ambient temperature is only about 50% of our perception of comfort--relative humidity (15%) and natural ventilation (35%) make up the rest. But buildings in Shanghai are often operated as if temperature is the only measurement that matters. Now to make this worse, the number of air conditioners in the city is increasing roughly 20% per year. That's a lot of energy that's needed unless something is done.

But the buildings do look very nice, and it is easy to get lost and disoriented (for me at least happily lost) among the glistening towers of glass. Just don't think about the energy being wasted, and you'll enjoy the experience. And when the sun goes down, I recommend from experience sitting atop the Jin Mao Tower at the second highest bar in Shanghai, Cloud 9, and watching all the lights come on across the city.

As the last rays of the sun flicker across the city, if there's not too much haze, the gleam off the buildings below you signals the end of a long work week in a bustling city. Next thing you know, the gleam of the glass gives way to the glow of neon atop the short and tall buildings alike. For some reason, as Shanghai developed it patterned its night scene after Las Vegas so that every new building must have its gimmicky lights. Some I find classy and excellent accents to the form of the building, and others are merely to attract attention. Either way, this is another energy drain that I don't quite understand.

I hope that gives a bit of insight into what I've come to know of this city and its energy challenges. There are two parts to it--the old and the new--and there is not yet a comprehensive solution to tackle both. I believe that we can draw some lessons from the revolutionizing of the construction industry with the introduction of Western architects 20 years ago. Today, there is easy cooperation between West and East in creating Grade A buildings. The question is how to incentivize the transfer of knowledge of green technology to Grade A buildings and below. As I mentioned in a previous post, I think part of what would help is if the gap between costs and income would be used not just for absorbing the risk of the futuristic designs of the Pearl Tower and others but for addressing the energy challenges facing new buildings here. Only time will tell though how the solutions work out, and likely it will be a combination of political, economic, and social actions.

Monday, September 6, 2010

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.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

"Unnaturally Natural"

First of all, I can't believe I've already been here a month! Time goes by quickly when you're busy with research and trying to explore a new place. I feel like there's not enough time for everything! I guess it just means I'll have to come back to do the rest later.

This time I thought I'd update everyone on my recent trips out of Shanghai. I try to balance my time in the weeks with the project and getting to know Shanghai and on weekends I try to experience a bit more of what the rest of China has to offer. There is so much to do it's impossible to get to it all, so I've started with the recommendations from Lonely Planet and the ex-pat magazines that are doable in weekends.

Two weekends ago, I ventured out to a nearby town called Hangzhou which contains one of China's largest and most well-known lakes: West Lake. This massive area can almost be considered the largest garden in China. Originally part of the river, the Lake has fluctuated in size as dykes, dams, and seasonal floods and droughts have alternately expanded and contracted its size. With the establishment in the Tang and Song dynasties of dams and the Bai and Su Causeways (long road crossings of the lake made from dredging the bottom), the lake stabilized in size. The lake was created both to provide water to surrounding farms but also for the pleasure of statesmen and emperors in Hanghzou, the capital of the Song Dynasty.

Now, because of its history and beauty, West Lake is a popular destination for Chinese tourists. The lake, in my opinion, is almost the centerpiece of a large Chinese garden. The surrounding hills, the lake's alcoves and shores, and even the islands in the center are so decorated and manicured that it is as if the lake is meant to be a garden in itself. In Suzhou, the city I visited the following weekend known for its gardens, I came across a plaque describing Chinese garden philosophy as creating spaces that were "unnaturally natural." They are meant to combine all of the elements of nature--earth (stones), water, plants, and humans--in a harmonious balance. No element dominates, and the scene is meant to inspire serenity and tranquility. In this sense, West Lake is a perfect example of a garden. Its shorelines have been sculpted into gentle curves with occasional peninsulas jutting out into the open water. Stone bridges connect these protrusions in a graceful arch, a natural shape. Lotuses patches are carefully constrained in how far they stretch across the lake, and willows line the shores with gaps that allow a peek through a frame of draping branches at the serene waters and rolling hills beyond. The element of man, always present but never the center, is visible from everywhere through boats cruising slowly along the water and temples and pagodas dotting the pinnacles of the hillsides.

As you walk along the lake, no detail seems trivial. Every tree seems to have been placed, and every mooring (like the one below) is carved with great detail. This lake was not meant to be natural, but was meant to look natural and balance all of the elements. It makes for a great place to sit and relax, watch the sunset, and think. Aside from the occasional loud tourist group (you just can't escape them here in China!), the shores are tranquil. In some spots, the sights are merely the trees, water, and classical style buildings while the sounds are merely the lap of the waves on the rocks at your feet, the cicadas buzzing in the trees around, and the occasional bird chirping or fish jumping. It is a relaxing break from the bustle of Shanghai.

I enjoy these weekend trips in part because I get to experience a different side of China and in part because I get to meet new people. Often they are tourists simply asking to take a photo with me. I must be quite the attraction at 6'1" with red hair, much more facial hair than I've seen on anyone else here, and blue eyes. However on this trip to Hangzhou I met two people, Caesar and Joy, who were tourists from elsewhere in China. They both spoke English and the three of us made a little travel party for the trip around the lake. It was nice to meet some new friends and chat for a day. The pictures below show these new friends and the obligatory picture of me in front of the lake.

There is another side to Hangzhou that I discovered on my second day there. It has numerous temples and pagodas of religious significance. The largest of these is Linping Temple and grounds which is one of the largest Buddhist temples in Asia. It is also impressive for its collection of rock carvings and effigies of Buddha and other central figures of the religion. Walking around, you can see why they chose this location. The hills, rock caves, and heavily forested peaks surrounding the temple create a naturally holy space worthy of Muir or Thoreau. Even though it is now overrun with tourists and crowded by street vendors, it is not hard to imagine a time when sitting in this location was a deeply religious experience as the trees swayed around you, water trickled in the stream, and the birds and bugs buzzed overhead while you sat and meditated. Pictures can't capture the essence of this place, so instead I've included snapshots of the most famous monuments there--the laughing Buddha (the Matreya) and the giant Buddha in one of the temples.

Last weekend featured a trip to more gardens, this time in the nearby town of Suzhou. Here is a relatively modern city with pockets of antiquity in its ancient gardens, many of which are UNESCO World Heritage sites and all of which are held up by the government as stunning examples of the classical Chinese garden. Here again I saw this theme of carefully sculpted nature, resulting in lakes, rivers, and walks that were almost too picturesque. The idea of balance is visible everywhere--no single element dominates, and rather than create a manicured landscape as in continental Europe where it is clear that nature is man's dominion, the Chinese choose to accentuate the landscape with walls, temples, and structures. To them, man has his place in the garden but he neither controls it nor dominates it. Perhaps it is the concept of feng shui at work as well, but the pathways here are beautiful winding walks that never give you the same view twice. They lead up to a reveal--suddenly you come from behind a wall or trees and see the garden through a portal either made by a door, rocks, or trees. The entrance feels processional and as if you are entering a hidden domain. I really like the feel of these gardens.

I also was impressed with the open style of the houses that surround them. The buildings are open to views, natural lighting, and natural ventilation with covered walks connecting them together. It was a nice pavilion or plaza created in the middle with a beautiful garden as the centerpiece. These ancient houses seem like they must have been nice places to live and frankly, I think that modern buildings could learn a lot from their openness to nature and passive design principles.

Well, that is the end of my weekend travels for now. I do want to share one more fun experience before I sign off though. When I returned from Suzhou exhausted, I was ready to crawl into bed and lie down and work until I read online that last Sunday was American Culture Week at an outdoor shopping area called Xintiandi. Sponsored by the USA Pavilion at Expo, this was supposed to be a small window into what you can see at Expo and what American culture is. Curious and excited that here was a slice of home, I dragged myself out of bed, threw on clothes not drenched in sweat, and headed out. So how, you might ask, do we represent American Culture? Check out the pictures below for the answer.

That's right: hip-hop dance and Sesame Street. Okay, so these performances were more about entertainment for families and streetgoers than really exposing Shanghai to American culture--I don't mean to oversimplify or be critical. They were just for fun and to attract more people to the USA Pavilion at Expo. And it was fun to see Elmo and Cookie Monster up on stage. But it left me wondering where was Big Bird--did he get quarantined for avian flu?