Design Anthology - Asia Pacific Edition
Documenting Architecture
Photographer Xi Wenlei is determined to document old Shanghai’s historic built environment before it vanishes forever
F or some, the neon-lit skyscrapers of Shanghai are merely the backdrop to a far more intriguing architecture. From the syncretism of alleyway homes to emblematic Art Deco, old Shanghai is awe-inspiring and incredibly diverse. Still, these remnants of the past are rapidly disappearing, despite the efforts of local preservationists. As the sprawling metropolis surrenders to the property boom, city officials mark entire neighbourhoods for demolition to make way for impersonal new structures, all reaching further into the sky.
When Xi Wenlei noticed the city’s rapid changes, he felt an urge to photograph its traditional constructions and lilong neighbourhoods, from shikumen homes to apartment blocks and office buildings, and record as many details as possible before they vanish forever. Whatever caught his eye was invariably built before 1949, the year the communists declared victory in the civil war.
‘The most obvious characteristic of these diverse and sophisticated buildings is the integration of Chinese and Western elements,’ says Xi, author of the books Inside Shanghai and Shanghai Shikumen. ‘This is true even for buildings built and used by foreigners in areas like the Bund and the former French Concession, where we can still find traditional Chinese details.’ Architects from around the world flocked to Shanghai in the 1920s and 30s, where they worked to the highest standards of modern living. Homes were equipped with heating and air conditioning, and had ample living rooms, modern bathrooms and kitchens. Some wealthier households even had servants’ quarters, gardens and garages. However, after 1949, when the CCP redistributed the elites’ assets, the function of these spaces was substantially altered from their former lavishness. ‘Rooms were divided into smaller units. The original home of one family was then occupied by multiple families, and everyone had to share communal kitchens and bathrooms,’ Xi explains.
Such a policy of public housing was an upgrade for countless families in the city. Still, decades of multigenerational high-density usage combined with subdivisions, makeshift extensions, careless wiring and cabling, and a lack of maintenance had most of these buildings falling into decay. Today, they retain only a glimpse of their former grandeur, with a much different texture. ‘I once saw a villa where part of the original living room had become the bathroom of the current family,’ Xi recalls. ‘Half of the bathtub sat in the original fireplace area.’
Along with the vernacular traits of the buildings he photographs, Xi also captures the lives of many of their dwellers: ordinary, mainly ageing people, and low-income families who migrated to Shanghai looking for work. Colourful laundry hanging everywhere, mah-jong tournaments and open-air cooking are part of the daily spectacle. Every corner of this intricate beehive is teeming with life. Lane culture remains intimate, much like it used to be.
Unsurprisingly, many of Shanghai’s traditional buildings and neighbourhoods have undergone a process of upper-middle-class gentrification or else become high-end retail zones, losing their genuine allure. The few that remain authentic, despite a rundown look, are very much alive, bustling with activity and still adding to the rarity of the city’s landscape. And although that may not always be the case, that’s how they’ll remain in the minds of those who cherished them.