Yangzhou Retreat by Neri&Hu Design & Research Office
At the walled Tsingpu Yangzhou Retreat, Neri&Hu’s interest in ‘reflective nostalgia’ is materialised through reclaimed bricks and inspiration from vernacular Chinese architecture.
“Nostalgia can be a problematic notion for some. It can be taken dismissively,” said Lyndon Neri, Partner at Shanghai- and London-based Neri&Hu Design and Research Office. “But we feel there is potential to be constructive with nostalgia, rather than merely reductive.”
Neri was speaking at Business of Design Week in Hong Kong late last year, where he discussed the juxtaposition of old and new as a recurring theme in Neri&Hu’s work. He grounded his discussion of a handful of Neri&Hu’s projects with a range of startling facts and insights about China’s massive rural-urban migration; the displacement encountered by those evicted to facilitate development; and the demise of rural villages.
“When we started our practice we became interested – almost obsessed – with the notion of nostalgia,” he recalled, pointing to the late Russian writer Svetlana Boym as a key source of influence on Neri&Hu’s thinking. Boym’s concept of ‘reflective nostalgia’
(as opposed to the more straightforward ‘restorative nostalgia’) was outlined in her 2001 book The Future of Nostalgia as a way of thinking about the past that has more to do with critical investigation than indoctrinating guidelines. ‘Reflective nostalgia’ is epitomised by an ironic yearning, rather than a dogged rebuilding of a prefabricated past that is held at arm’s length from the realities of the present.
In a reflective approach to nostalgia, Neri&Hu finds a way of forging a dialogue with the past that is inseparable from the present – full of tension, irony and even humour. It is not devoid of a sense of longing, but neither it is lacking in critical assessment. This way of thinking about the massive change happening in China is at the basis of much of Neri&Hu’s celebrated work.
The studio has made a concerted effort in recent years to take on more projects outside the major cities. Among them was the design of a 20-room hotel in Yangzhou on a site dotted with small lakes and existing structures, some of which had to be adapted and others of which could be remembered by their footprint only. In response to this unusual brief, Neri and his partner Rossana Hu looked to the traditional courtyard house typology of Yangzhou for organising principles as well as means of generating a meaningful experience at the hotel.
“Traditional Chinese villages were created with clusters of individual families,” said Neri. He continued, “The courtyard gave hierarchy to the spaces, framed views of sky and earth, encapsulated landscape into architecture, and created an overlap between interior and exterior.” Neri&Hu’s strategy for the Tsingpu Yangzhou Retreat was to align and unify the site’s scattered elements by overlaying a grid of walls, which resulted in multiple courtyard enclosures. The guest rooms are grouped within the courtyards, akin to small buildings nestled between the walls, with the narrow passageways establishing long perspectives.
Most of the rooflines are confined within the height of the brick walls – the obvious exception being the two-storey library block. Opportunities arise for guests to climb stairs to vantage points that look out across the hotel compound and the lake environment. Beyond the main compound there are a lakeside pavilion of four guest rooms and a renovated warehouse with a partial concrete addition. The latter now houses a restaurant, a theatre and an exhibition space.
A rustic materiality defines the hotel by way of Neri&Hu’s use of reclaimed bricks. These were collected from demolition sites around Yangzhou and the region, and reassembled at the hotel in various bond patterns. “The brick walls add a textural reading,” said Neri, “and over time their patina will continue to build.” The application of this familiar material in forms that reference – but don’t replicate – vernacular architecture lends the project an unusual sense of time. “The building begins to emerge as though it’s been there for many generations,” suggests Neri, despite its modern language.