Tales from Two Chinese Cities: The Dragon's Awakening to Conservation in face of Growth?
Debates and Compromises: Conservation and Development of the Northern Old Hongkou in Shanghai
Historic Conservation and Economic Development: Are They Necessarily Rivals?—The Case of Suzhou Creek Industrial Heritage in Shanghai
Heritage Conservation in China's “Instant City”—Shenzhen

The Destructive Twentieth Century and the Awakening to Conservation Needs

In the developed world, the industrial revolution in the late nineteenth century and the consequent urbanization processes in the twentieth century, “the century of destruction” (Tung, 2001, p.15), effectively broke the commonly understood “codes” for “reading” and “building” cities (Lefebvre, 1991). In the age of enlightenment, modern architecture, emphasizing functionality, adopted a new language to “liberate” the cities and the people living in them. However, “as modern architecture became increasingly universal as a cultural expression and further departed from traditional building aesthetics, inhabitants in many of the most beautiful historic cities of the world became alarmed…The food of these cities, their social norms, their religious practices, their customs of government, differ…And it was the loss of this ultimately unquantifiable social chemistry that people feared, the loss of the spirit of the city made palpable in the beautiful interwoven forms of the historic cityscape” (Tung, 2001, pp. 27–28).

This concern to conserve the historic cityscape and the embedded spirit and values of its people has led to the generation of multi-scalar actions in different parts of the world. As early as 1931, the International Museums Office organized the Athens Conference, and the subsequent Athens Charter for the Restoration of Historic Monuments (Athens Charter) outlined the general principles related to the protection of monuments and heritage. In 1964, during the Second Congress of Architects and Specialists of Historic Buildings in Venice, 13 resolutions were adopted. Among these, the International Charter for the Conservation and Restoration of Monuments and Sites (Venice Charter, 2008) provided principles to guide individual countries in their efforts to preserve and restore ancient buildings. At the same conference, the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS, 2008), a non-government organization bringing together conservation specialists from many countries, was born. At the national level, the Burra Charter of Australia (ICOMOS, 1979, revised in 1999) “provides guidance for the conservation and management of places of cultural significance (cultural heritage places).”

Increasingly, people realize that “cultural heritage connects us to our histories and our collective memories; it anchors our sense of being and can provide a source of insight to help us to face the future” (Landry, 2000, p. 6). Landry even identifies cultural resources as “the raw materials of the city and its value base”, calling for creativity exercised through an inclusive participatory process to ensure that the exploitation of these resources is culturally, economically, socially and environmentally sustainable (Landry, 2000, pp. 8, 20).

Revolutionary China's Awakening to Conservation Needs

Issues surrounding conservation and development in the last century are particularly pointed in China. In the Chinese language, China means literally “the middle kingdom”. Proud of her own greatness, China had always been a self-sufficient and stable society, at least in the eyes of rulers. However, the westerners' “global” exploration, later reinforced by the Industrial Revolution, changed the fate of the Middle Kingdom. In the name of trade, her door was forced to be opened to first the Portuguese and the Spaniards, then the British (leading to the infamous Opium Wars), the French, and other westerners. By the time of the end of the Qing dynasty, China had degenerated into an intensive period of internal “warlordism” and continued western imperialist incursion. This engendered a sentiment epitomized by the “three antis”: anti-feudalism, anti-imperialism and anti-capitalism. In the struggle to find an appropriate path towards modernity, dynastic rule was ended by the 1911 Revolution, led by Dr Sun Yat-Sen. In the path to overthrow an old mode of governance, the Chinese had to resist both legacies of the “outdated society” and the “invasion” of western civilization (manifested as capitalism), both seen as evil forces that had sabotaged the nation when it was undergoing the birth pains of a modern society.

The Second World War and the subsequent conclusion to the civil war between the Nationalist and the Communist parties resulted in the establishment of the People's Republic of China in 1949. A centrally planned economy, based on the Soviet model, was adopted, and the project of building a revolutionary proletariat began. Authorities were determined to denounce both Confucianism and capitalism, characterized respectively as “man eating institutions and rites”1 and an import from “foreign devils“ that was exploitative and morally degrading.

Although over 300,000 places were registered as sites of cultural significance in 1950, and eventually more than 7,000 places were identified as “sites with important historical, artistic, and scientific value”; only 1,268 of these sites were designated as National Priority Protected Sites by the State Council (Zhang, 2002, p. vii).The primary task of the Communist Party was to build producer cities rather than consumer cities, to end exploitation and to achieve the successful revolution of the proletariat. The fervour to break with the feudal past and to build a socialist heaven uncontaminated by capitalistic thoughts were themes that ran through closed-door China, especially during the Cultural Revolution (1966–1976). For decades, Socialist China categorically turned her back on her rich cultural heritage, ridiculing or destroying it, to pursue the building of a new China.

The centrally planned economy, or the “shortage” economy, led China to the verge of a socially demoralized and economically bankrupt society. The adoption of the open door policy in late 1978 helped turn a new page in the country's development, but the growth-at-all-costs mentality was not good news for the country's heritage. To ameliorate this, in 1982, the National People's Congress promulgated the Law of the People's Republic of China on the Protection of Cultural Relics (2002) and in 1985 the National People's Congress ratified the UNESCO (1972) Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage. Since 1982, the State Council has designated another ninety-nine “Historically and Culturally Famous Cities” (Zhang, 2002, p. vii). Successive waves of destruction of the country's heritage assets have alerted the China office of ICOMOS: “over little more than twenty years…the great and ancient wealth of China's archaeological and historic legacy has come under new pressures, and cultural heritage authorities at national, provincial, and local levels are hard pressed to meet these challenges effectively” (Agnew & Demas, 2002, p. v).

In 1997 the State Administration of Cultural Heritage (SACH) in China cooperated with the Getty Conservation Institute in California and the Australian Heritage Commission to begin drawing up guidelines to direct the nation's conservation efforts (Agnew & Demas, 2002, p. v). Under the leadership of the Deputy Director-General of SACH (also the current Chairman of China), ICOMOS's committee of eight senior professionals from the fields of architecture, archaeology, conservation sciences, law and management drafted a Principles document (Zhang, 2002, p. vii). In late 2000, with the approval of SACH, this became the Chinese document Principles for the Conservation of Heritage Sites in China, providing an integrated and methodological approach to the conservation and management of cities, in compliance with the existing legislation of the People's Republic of China (Zhang, 2002, p. ix).

Tales of Conservation Versus Development: Shanghai and Shenzhen

Understanding China's increasing awareness of the need to save her cultural heritage during her renewed momentum towards modernity necessitates an examination of the ways in which conservation and development are reconciled in concrete cases. Here, no cases can be more strikingly illustrative of the problems facing conservationists than those found in Shanghai and Shenzhen. In this Interface, we seek to illustrate from the stories of these two very different Chinese cities some of the most intriguing issues surrounding development and conservation.

Before New China was born in 1949, Shanghai was China's first cosmopolitan “world city”, a status reflected in its famous, imperialistic architecture along the Bund and in housing along the “lilong” (small lane) settlements, where western and oriental architecture met in Shanghai's residential districts. Shanghai is one of China's 99 National Historically and Culturally Famous Cities (Zhang, 2005, p. 127), and has grown rapidly in recent decades. In 1949 its population was 5.4 million (Zhang, Liu & Hu, 1981) but by the year 2000, census returns showed a population of 16.7 million.2 According to Lu (2002, p. 172), “the building frenzy of the 1990s has physically changed the city at a rate rarely seen in urban history. By the late 1990s, much of the city was literally destroyed, giving way to the latest trend of high-rises and state-of-the-art edifices.” Yet massive redevelopment of the central city has led to a surging awareness of a need to conserve and restore Shanghai's historic buildings and areas: “as a city towards the twentyfirst century, Shanghai needs not only high-rises to reflect its modernity, but also distinctive old buildings and areas to demonstrate its long-standing history and culture” (Ma, 1999, cited in Zhang, 2005, p. 149). An interesting question to ask is whether the ongoing efforts to conserve Shanghai's heritage represent genuine efforts to save the historic spirit of the city, or whether conservation is just a nostalgic twist of an increasingly consumption orientated society, turning history into a commodity to suit the taste of the affluent classes (Lu, 2002; Wai, 2006).

Luan and Wang's paper details the case of the Hongkou North district in the city proper of Shanghai, a place rich in monuments and historic cultural districts. However, these are under constant threat of destruction by intense development pressures as the city strives to regain its global status. The paper not only outlines the ideological and practical struggles involved in balancing economic development and heritage conservation over time, it also raises a number of thorny practical and theoretical issues. What should be counted as “development”? What should be the targets for conservation? How should heritage be defined? Does development carry an inevitable “destructive” connotation? Can development integrate with the past? While attempts to answer these difficult questions continue, the opportunities to raise these issues have opened the minds of the people in Shanghai to rethink about the need for conserving historic heritage in the course of (re)developing an old city district.

Zhong and Zhou's paper on the famous Suzhou Creek introduces the story of the almost spontaneous creation of cultural economy in one sector of the city, initiated by an artist from Taiwan in a dilapidated industrial area. The account is fascinating, and as the story unfolds it casts light on the roles played by governments, artists (local and overseas), academics, professionals, developers, local communities and the mass media in shaping the future of an old industrial landscape “abandoned” by Shanghai's restructuring economy. Similar to Luan and Wang's paper, the Suzhou Creek experience forces us to reflect on the social, economic, cultural, historical and political value of a built environment that has lived its “functions” in history. Should it be given a new lease of life by functional changes or should it be demolished to make way for new built forms? Who should decide the value and fate of our built heritage?

When Shanghai was “Da Shanghai” (literally “Great Shanghai”), Shenzhen then was just an unknown border town north of colonial Hong Kong. When China adopted the open door policy in late 1978, the population of the whole of Shenzhen was a mere 0.31 million (Ng, 2003). Today, however, its population is reported to have reached 13 million.3 As an “instant city”, built over a basically rural and undeveloped landscape in an astonishingly short timespan, it is natural to assume that conservation would not be a concern in the process of growth and development. Is this really the case? Liu and Ng's paper shows that, contrary to popular thinking, Shenzhen is indeed full of heritage; heritage bequeathed by ancient history and preserved and enhanced by the unique multi-dimensional and inclusive Lingnan culture in southern China. Liu and Ng further argue that Shenzhen represents a living heritage of China's open door policy and economic reforms. While historic heritage conservation does not really appeal to the largely migrant society, the emphasis on conserving heritage of the Special Economic Zone seems to have played a surprising role in building people's sense of identity with the place. The natural questions of course are: What constitutes the heritage of a place? How is heritage viewed in the conservation process? Does Shenzhen show a genuine attempt to continue the history and culture of a place or is it just city marketing to capitalize on the cultural turn of the economy? What history or whose histories will be told in such conservation efforts?

Debates and Compromises: Conservation and Development of the Northern Old Hongkou in Shanghai

Conservation in Urban Shanghai since the 1990s

Since the 1990s, Shanghai has experienced accelerated economic growth, leading to rapid development and large-scale redevelopment in the core of the city (Shanghai Proper). This has altered the built form, presenting unprecedented challenges to the work of heritage conservation in various urban areas. That said, even though damage to the historical character of the urban areas has been accelerating at a hitherto unprecedented rate, conservation efforts in Shanghai's core city are producing obvious results.

These seemingly conflicting observations need to be decoded from a macro perspective. Briefly, Shanghai's core city has experienced clear structural changes as a result of rapid development. However, this transformation has differed greatly from the evolution of historic city centres in many other developed countries. Despite the large-scale removal of old industrial enterprises and the relocation of its indigenous residents, the centre has never shown signs of urban decay. Indeed, under the guidance of municipal government policy (“Prosperity at the Core City”), and with the assistance of state-led investment in large-scale urban renewal, the centre of Shanghai city exhibits characteristics of concentrated development, market-driven intensive redevelopment and the rapid introduction of high-end service industries which helped to restructure the economy. As such, the overall development intensity and population size at the city centre have increased significantly. According to related studies (SUPDI, 2005), Shanghai's core city of approximately 600 km² housed a resident population of about 10 million in 2003, and the overall plot ratio (calculated from total gross floor area of all existing buildings) had reached 0.88. Such a degree of intensity is rapidly making Shanghai one of the most densely populated cities in the world.

The rapid urban restructuring and intensive development during the 1990s, combined with a subsequent period of large-scale intensive redevelopment, is placing immense pressure on the conservation of the historic characteristics of the city centre. Nevertheless, there is still substantial progress also being made in this area. Firstly, from a social perspective, more and more people are realizing the socio-cultural value of the built heritage. Indeed, searching for the historical and cultural roots of older districts has become fashionable and it is becoming a generally accepted idea that areas of historical significance should be conserved, even if this comes at a cost.

From a legal and institutional perspective, a key event occurred in 1991 when the Shanghai Municipal People's Government enacted at the local level the Regulations of Shanghai Municipality on the Protection of the Outstanding Modern Architectures which were subsequently amended and republished in 1997. Protection requirements for high quality architecture and top historic monuments were outlined. This was followed in 2002 by the enactment at the local level of the Conservation Regulations Regarding Shanghai's Historic Cultural District and Excellent Historic Buildings (hereafter referred to as the Regulations) again by the Committee of the Shanghai Municipal People's Congress. Not only have the Regulations further enlarged the selection basis and protection requirements of an outstanding monument, more importantly, they have also raised the requirements for protecting areas of historic and cultural significance. Later on, in 2003, the Shanghai Municipal People's Government officially approved the designation of 12 historically and culturally significant zones (approximately 27 km²) in the city proper. In the meantime, relevant departments of Shanghai's municipal government, academics and social organizations have initiated research and planning studies regarding heritage conservation in Shanghai. This range of work done by different stakeholders has promoted conservation of historic character in the city centre; it has also become a powerful force that protects urban historic and cultural heritage from the immense development pressure.

However, while the work of conservation has achieved certain progress, there are still a great number of confusions and controversies, centring on both conceptual and practical problems, which are affecting the actual progress and results of the heritage conservation efforts.

Planning Study of the Northern Old Hongkou in Shanghai

In 2001, the authors of this article participated in a planning study centring on the Northern Old Hongkou, an area of approximately 83 ha, located inside the inner ring of Shanghai's core city (Figure 1). Northern Old Hongkou represents an important section of the government-approved Shanyin-Lu Historically and Culturally Significant Zone (HCSZ) in the wider Hongkou District (Figure 2). Not only is the district dotted with listed monuments that are placed under municipal protection, it also houses a mixture of old and new li-long,2 built since 1900, as well as multi-storey and high-rise buildings constructed since the founding of the nation (1949). Sichuan Road North, which passes through the district, is expected to become one of Shanghai's key commercial axes, though because of the slow pace of development its current state falls short of this expectation. Nevertheless, it is still regarded as an important commercial node for the surrounding areas.

Figure 1 Location of the Hongkou North district within the city centre of Shanghai.

Figure 2 Boundary of the study area. Source: Luo, 2003.

By commissioning the planning study, the Hongkou District Government was actively trying to promote the rejuvenation of the district. Inevitably, issues such as spatial redevelopment and the need to boost redevelopment intensity were raised. Yet because of the presence of a considerable number of listed monuments in the area, its general historic and cultural character, the Municipal and District governments took a cautious approach in making planning-related decisions. The study was finally completed in 2002 and the major findings are recorded in a volume edited by Professor Luo Xiaowei (2003).

Targets of Conservation

Heritage conservation as a general concept for the study has been widely acknowledged. However, heated debates surrounding contentious issues such as the “targets of conservation” or “the kind of redevelopment that can be allowed within a protected zone” are inevitable. During the actual course of this particular study, it was not only listed monuments and outstanding examples of modern architecture that were considered. It was also agreed that Shanghai's old and new li-long, while not yet designated for protection, were intact and important examples of the architectural styles of Shanghai's residential areas before the setting up of the People's Republic of China, and hence should be targeted for appropriate conservation. However, this raised the concern that the conservation areas might become so large that it would limit the overall redevelopment potential. After all, increasing the supply of gross floor area through redevelopment is a basic requirement of current urban rejuvenation and economic restructuring projects.

The most controversial issues faced during the study related to two types of building: undesignated built heritages that constitute memories of national shame, and relatively “young” buildings with architectural features representative of a recent era. Naturally, these were both related back to the principles and criteria the Government used in identifying significant sites for heritage conservation. Guidance as to the Government's values and inclination was taken from the designation of “outstanding modern architecture” in the 1997 Regulations. (In Chinese “outstanding” carries a positive connotation.)

One classic controversial case was about the designation of a massive building that was once the commanding headquarters of the Japanese navy during Japan's invasion of China. At the beginning, some experts deemed the building for demolition for three reasons. First, the massive building represented national shame; secondly, the building was “ugly” and did not meet the criteria for “outstanding modern architecture”; thirdly, demolition or partial demolition would enable additional room for road-widening work on the south side of the building, thereby improving external traffic connections of the area. However, a number of researchers, including the authors of this article, put forward an alternative view: conservation of heritage buildings should not be defined by its appearance because “aesthetics” change with time and are subjective criteria; and the status of a building as a symbol of national shame should perhaps form a reason for conserving it. From our point of view, the most important reason to conserve historic heritage is to continue the memories of significant historical events, a viewpoint that quickly gained acceptance from more experts and some government officials. From subsequent published study findings, as well as recent understanding of the author, although the massive building is still not designated as “outstanding modern architecture”, it has at least remained intact (Figure 3).

Figure 3 Building that housed the commanding headquarters of the Japanese navy during the Japanese invasion of China. The building now has mixed uses. Source: Author.

Other discussions were mainly focused on structures that were built relatively recently. The outlook of these buildings is rather unattractive or even “ugly” from a contemporary point of view but they often represent the unique construction style of the 1970s and1980s. In fact, only a few support the conservation of these buildings, even in expert circles. In terms of Shanghai's Regulations, it was not until 2002 that the building age requirement for outstanding modern architecture was relaxed from pre-1949 to buildings that are 30 years old or more. Similar issues were raised more recently in a project related to the transformation of an old factory in the city centre—although the discussions concluded that the ugly mosaic external wall fragments built in the 1980s could be partially preserved for assessment by future generations, in the end they were all demolished and replaced by walls made of modern glass and new ecological and high-tech materials, demonstrating the most contemporary techniques of preserving and reusing industrial heritage in the global arena.

In reality, underlying the concerns about the age of the built heritage are issues surrounding the spatial extent of the conservation area and the required standards and criteria that individual buildings must meet to be conserved. Too large a conservation area would be regarded as unrealistic, if not an obstacle for development, especially when the major trend is still intensive physical redevelopment. To some extent, more people are accepting the idea that conservation and development are not necessarily conflicting principles, and some even believe that conservation is a major driving force for development. Nevertheless, the majority of the people remain more inclined to favour development and, to a large degree, regard heritage conservation as a constraint to means and ends of development. However, another important conservation topic lies beyond the physical entity of individual structures. Through survey works, the study team discovered the unique flavour of the historic streetscape in Northern Old Hongkou. This uniqueness comes not just from the existence of historic buildings on the two sides, but also from the mottled walls, narrow streets, tall trees, even the traditional street vendors and laid-back elderly folk who populate the landscape. Because of all these, the study team sought to reject a conventional rejuvenation approach such as the removal of the old district walls for greening the city and replacement of residential buildings by public amenities, both of which form popular means of revitalizing a place. However, despite persuasive arguments for their inclusion, these unconventional proposals did not appear in the final report.

Contents of Development and Means of Conservation

Although the substantive meaning of “development” was never vigorously defined during the study, it goes without saying that the concept to a large extent includes an increase in income and an improvement of the quality of life. Yet it has also changed in recent years. For example, about ten years ago, an improvement in living standards was defined in terms of higher incomes and bigger living spaces per person. In recent years, though, definitions have expanded, and now give more attention to the social and ecological conditions of the neighbourhood which people look at when choosing their homes. In other words, the meanings of these concepts are now harnessed to the people's own sense of the environments in which they work and spend their daily lives: they have become personalized, and vary from individual to individual. For our study area, Northern Old Hongkou, the vision and thinking of the District Government are crystal clear: their vision is to promote the area as a commercial node with important public amenities through adjustment of land use, addition of basic infrastructure investment, urban renewal and transformation, and injection of commercial and real-estate developments. Objectively speaking, this thinking may help improve the built environment and boost economic growth. However, how beneficial such a development strategy is to individual indigenous residents is an issue worthy of separate discussion.

On the whole, due to long-term material deterioration and lack of maintenance, the quality of buildings in Northern Old Hongkou is generally poor and many of the residential blocks lack basic facilities such as an individual bathroom and kitchen. Besides, overcrowding is an acute problem due to a high degree of sharing, with several families crammed into a single residential unit. During the study, the authors found that the majority of the residents were longing for the Government's intervention to improve their living conditions, even though this would mean that they might need to leave their current neighbourhoods or even relocate to remote areas distant from the city centre. Of course, a good number of residents wanted to stay in the existing neighbourhood. However, they all knew that the chance of this was slim, if not non-existent. Hence, they tended to be concerned more about how much cash compensation they could obtain under the monetized compensation policy—even though most of the properties were owned by the Government. This is one factor that can delay development, since there is often a considerable gap between residents' asking price and the actual compensation the Government or developers are prepared to pay. Coupled with a growing concern over societal stability and an aspiration for the public's views on the matter to be heard, this tends to hold up urban redevelopment and relocation. Seven years after drafting the plan, the authors of this paper recently revisited the area, and found that many of the residential sites earmarked for redevelopment remained untouched (Figure 4).

Figure 4 Sites deemed necessary for redevelopment but remain untouched. Source: Author.

This difficult situation is typical of the course of transforming and developing old cities in China. On the one hand, due to various reasons such as financial difficulties, passive reliance on government actions and higher expectations, the progress of relocation is extremely slow, leaving residents living in poor conditions. On the other hand, while the government has the obligation to improve people's quality of life, substantial resource inputs are necessary. The aims of the government's plans for comprehensive urban regeneration are to improve the living conditions of the residents, promote economic growth, and renew the built environment. These are common catch-22 issues facing contemporary Chinese cities and have directly affected decisions made on policies related to the means of urban renewal.

In terms of renewing the built environment, it is generally accepted that zero-demolition is impossible even in historic areas. Yet in practice, there is still no consensus on a commonly agreed urban renewal approach, other than for monuments designated for protection by law and a few exceptionally outstanding historic buildings. For other buildings with character or historic significance, controversies continue as to exactly what alterations or partial redevelopments are allowable. Towards the end of the study, the team reached the following consensus: incremental redevelopment should be adopted as the renewal approach, but at the same time there should be a certain level of effort given to protecting the overall character and characteristics of the historic area. However, this remains rather conceptual and at least two key aspects require clarification: first, how to identify and define the “character” of the historical area that needs to be conserved and how to assess accurately which alteration works would lead to detrimental effects; second, what constitutes incremental redevelopment, a thorny issue for an old inner city district facing tremendous redevelopment pressure.

In terms of revitalization of land use functions, an expert once indicated to the authors that, against the background of a “conserve while developing” approach, adaptive reuse is the only way to enhance the potential values in the district (the real-estate value, plus the added economic value conferred by the historical and cultural aspects of the historic area). However, there are different opinions about adaptive reuse, the most negative of which comes from Professor Zheng Shiling, a member of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, on the revitalization approach of one of Shanghai's new landmarks—Xintiandi. Zheng's comment was an overt rejection of the approach: “it brought about blood transfusion; it was an act of robbing the poor to enrich the wealthy; and in the end produced a set of counterfeits” (Wang, 2006).

In the case of old Hongkou North district, the final conclusion was a compromise in principle between change and conservation. The study team agreed on the one hand, that appropriate functional changes are necessary, if not inevitable, as this is the only way to integrate the historic area with the pace and requirements of contemporary society and economy, thereby revitalizing the district. But on the other hand, the group found abrupt and fundamental functional adjustments and changes unacceptable, mainly because the continuation of socio-economic functions and social organization are all key components of the historic and cultural character of a place.

Reaching an Agreement: Balance between Conservation and Development

From the inception of the study to submission of the study report and subsequent planning work, controversies, discussions and compromises were non-stop. Conclusions at different stages were often adjusted as a result of changes in the vision and the changing social, economic and urban conditions. The following episode is one case in point.

Duolun is a community inside the Northern Old Hongkou. It is the first site in Hongkou to undertake urban renewal under the principle of conservation, with a townscape of monuments and architecture built at different historical points in time. According to the development plan, the revitalization of the community would depend on developing Duolun-lu (Duolun Road), a cultural precinct and one of the most historically significant places in Shanghai. At the beginning of the planning study, based on feasibility and future development requirements, researchers (including the authors) had suggested that in order to practise and finance partial conservation, concentrated and intensive redevelopment should be allowed on the southern part and western edge of the community, to fully capitalize on the completion of a new nearby railway station. However, perhaps because of the academic nature of the study, the final concept plan formulated along these lines was out of touch with the development pressure on the ground. Although sites for intensive redevelopment were identified, constraints were imposed on the intensity of redevelopment; only 10,000 m² would be added to the existing gross floor area (GFA) of 320,000 m², and the allowable GFA of the new buildings was often less than the original GFA of the old ones. Stringent controls would be imposed over the height and massing of new buildings so that they could be integrated better with the existing historical character.

By contrast, in 2004, the statutory “Detailed Conservation and Community Rehabilitation Plan of Duolun-lu, Hongkou” was approved by the Shanghai Municipal City Planning Bureau. As a statutory document for implementation, this Plan naturally needed to pay more attention to the feasibility and operational aspects of development. In other words, it had to reach a pragmatic compromise between heritage conservation and urban redevelopment. From the Detailed Plan, it is easy to see that large-scale intensive redevelopment is suggested for a considerable portion of the community; and in order to strike a balance between conservation and redevelopment, a substantial number of the heritage buildings were suggested for relocation and re-assembly (Figures 5 and 6).

Figure 5 Concept plans for the Duolun community formulated by the study team (2002) and the 2004 Statutory ‘Detailed Conservation and Community Rehabilitation Plan of Duolun-lu, Hongkou’. Source: Luo, 2003.

Figure 6 Models for the Duolun community formulated by the study team (2002) and the 2004 Statutory ‘Detailed Conservation and Community Rehabilitation Plan of Duolun-lu, Hongkou’. Source: Wang, 2006.

Summary

In fact, the pattern of renewal and “conservation” in the statutory Detailed Plan described above is a typical district approach to urban renewal in Shanghai's city centre areas. The implication here is that even more flexible approaches are required to resolve the conflicts between historic area conservation and large-scale, intensive redevelopment. At least for now, more and more people have already accepted the following viewpoints. First, while wholesale conservation should not be insisted upon, radical changes in functions or built form are also not desirable. Working to promote economic growth and improve living quality, we should balance the demands of heritage conservation and urban redevelopment. This does not necessarily mean rejecting functional and physical changes or even large-scale redevelopment. Second, conservation and development are not mutually exclusive. The underlying socio-cultural values embedded in the historic street blocks could bring about economic benefits, providing the necessary space for economic growth in the course of heritage conservation. Furthermore, while the actual demand for rapid large-scale high-intensity redevelopment remains strong in the short run, more and more people are inclined to accept a more incremental approach to urban renewal.

At the operational level, we notice that the most controversial matters are related to the speed of renewal and the actual means of implementation. However, in the face of development pressure, the government opts to leave substantial room for operational flexibility. And it is exactly the implementation and the phasing of redevelopment that will determine the available choices in the end. To borrow a remark made at an expert meeting: “at least we now know that in planning for old district renewal, we should be vigilant and should never demolish something simply because the built environment is in decay.”

LUAN FENG

YIYUN WANG102

College of Architecture and Urban Planning, Tongji University, Shanghai

Historic Conservation and Economic Development: Are They Necessarily Rivals?—The Case of Suzhou Creek Industrial Heritage in Shanghai

Introduction

Suzhou Creek, traversing the inner city of Shanghai from west to east, has been a witness of the city's modern industrial development over the past one and a half centuries. When Shanghai was forced open under the Nanjing Treaty in 1843, the city embarked on her journey of industrialization. Serving both as a transportation route and a natural sewer, Suzhou Creek attracted industrial capital from both domestic and foreign interests. Large numbers of factories as well as ancillary warehouses were built along the creek. Soon the area became home to China's first modern textile mill, flour mill, beer brewery, yarn factory, water treatment plant and power station (Han & Zhang, 2003). In addition to businesses from the manufacturing sector, financial institutions and trading firms also put up their warehouses along the river for storing financial collateral or trading goods. By 1930, the industrial agglomeration along Suzhou Creek had become one of the largest in this important industrial city of China.1 Accompanying the construction of industrial buildings along Suzhou Creek was a proliferation of slum housing for destitute migrants and li-long housing2 (alley housing) for the well-off who flooded Shanghai in search of better job prospects or to evade wars or peasant uprisings. Today, li-long houses have become one of the symbols of Shanghai.

Later, the establishment of the Communist regime only served to reinforce the industrial role of Suzhou Creek. Shanghai was to be transformed from a “capitalist adventurer's paradise” into a socialist economic and industrial base. By the end of 1950s, there were roughly 1,000 factories with about three million residents living along the Creek (Yao et al., 2004). What remained unchanged in this socialist transformation was that the narrow Suzhou Creek was again left to carry the burden of industrialization. In the 1990s, the manufacturing sector along the river experienced rapid decline, owing to the decreasing popularity of river transportation and the government's deindustrialization policies to promote global city functions. Most factories were relocated to the outer suburbs or simply shut down, leaving many old industrial sites abandoned and obsolete. Unfortunately, these efforts did not translate into better water quality for the Creek. Although nobody questioned the role of Suzhou Creek's industrial heritage in nurturing Shanghai's modern economy and urban culture, very few people could relate the idea of conservation to the dilapidated industrial buildings on Suzhou Creek, as the glory connected with their industrial past had seriously been tainted by mounting pollution problems and the deteriorating post-industrial landscape. In the popular imagination, the Suzhou Creek factories and warehouses were nothing more than “pieces of junk”.

The Turning Point

The turning point for Suzhou Creek in the 1990s was a comprehensive river cleaning project. Faced with inadequacy of earlier efforts in 1996, the municipal government initiated a more ambitious cleaning project, aiming to curb various sources of pollution. Given the title of a “project to win people's hearts” (“mingxin gongcheng”) (Lu, 2004) by the government, the Shanghainese referred to it as a “revitalization project” (“fuxing gongcheng”) (Shu, 2002). The first phase was acclaimed as a success. By 2003, the water in Suzhou Creek had turned from black to dark green, and the stinky smell that emanated from it had largely disappeared. Suzhou Creek finally regained her status as one of the symbols of Shanghai (Yao et al., 2004).

Almost simultaneously, another change was quietly taking place in the old industrial spaces—the spontaneous arrival of artists and creative workers. Deng Kun Yan, a Taiwanese architect who had experience in New York's SoHo was among the forerunners. In 1998 he discovered a grain warehouse at 1305 South Suzhou Road. It was built in 1933 and was said to be owned by a famous Shanghai tycoon in the 1930s.3 At the time of its discovery, the warehouse was used as makeshift dormitories by over 100 poor migrant workers. Its rent was very cheap and Deng's professional judgement told him that the structure of the building was still sound, with only some cleaning and renovation work needed to revitalize the lacklustre space. He proceeded with the renovation work amid scepticism and successfully turned the dilapidated warehouse into a cool spot—a trendy design studio (Shu, 2002; Zeng, 2005).

Soon afterwards, two old warehouses close to Deng's studio were occupied by other architects and design firms. Within the next few years, numerous cultural workers followed suit, among them painters, photographers, sculptors, graphic designers, architects, interior designers, fashion designers and so on. By the end of 2002, there were over 30 converted art warehouses in the Suzhou Creek area, housing more than 100 studios (80 Weiba, 2008). In addition, many art galleries, salons and art schools sprang up in the area, forming the embryo of a booming cultural economy. Social and commercial activities such as trendy parties, exhibitions and fashion shows were frequently held on those sites, creating opportunities for cultural exchange and cross-fertilization among creative workers and entrepreneurs who came from various parts of China and even overseas. The cultural pioneers did not just revalorize the deserted industrial spaces on Suzhou Creek; they also brought Shanghai's industrial heritage conservation into the spotlight.

Revalorization

In those early days, the old industrial buildings along Suzhou Creek were invaluable to many aspiring artists: functionally these spaces were spacious and flexible; economically they were cheap and accessible to even the marginal artists whose avant-garde works were rejected by the mainstream or closely watched by the state apparatus; aesthetically the textured industrial buildings were distinct in a sea of monolithic modern high-rises; culturally they represented the unique industrial past of the locality; and socially they sat in a mélange of urban dwellers, including those living in the traditional li-long housing, whose quotidian lives could provide endless inspiration for creative workers (Figure 1) (Wang & Zhu, 2003; Han & Zhang, 2004). It was true that Suzhou Creek's industrial heritage could in no way compete with the high-class signature colonial buildings in the Bund in terms of age, quality and aesthetic value, yet they provided a tolerant environment for creativity to thrive. The storyline of Suzhou Creek had in some ways echoed experiences of many other cities such as New York, London, San Francisco, Chicago and Vancouver. In all these cases, the cultural economic sectors were closely linked to marginal urban spaces, including industrial heritage buildings (see Zukin, 1982; Ley, 1996; Lloyd, 2005; Hutton, 2008). In the subsequent years, many international media outlets (CNN [Cable News Network], the New York Times, the Associated Press, NHK [Japan Broadcasting Corporation]) as well as influential Chinese media outlets (such as Chinese Central TV Station and important tourism magazines) have reported the rise of the Suzhou Creek art warehouses. These warehouses not only were frequented by high-profile foreign consulate officers, media personnel and top designers, but also drew large numbers of domestic and international visitors. By 2000, establishing a studio in a Suzhou Creek warehouse had become a trend among cultural workers, and this quickly translated into a shortage of Suzhou Creek warehouse spaces and the inevitable rent hikes.4

Figure 1 Urban heritage on Suzhou Creek: Old warehouse, new cultural space. Source: Photo taken by Sheng Zhong on 23 May 2006.

Ironically, it was the old warehouses rather than the creative work that made many Suzhou Creek artists famous. Though some forms of their contemporary art were incomprehensible to the general public, the artists' act of occupying derelict warehouses aroused wide interest. But the excessive attention to the buildings rather than to the art also alarmed many artists. As one painter observed: “We were rarely noticed by the media before. Yet we are drawing public attention because of the art warehouses. The value of the art warehouses seems to have exceeded the art itself. I hope the value of China's contemporary art will not be restricted only to a few warehouses” (Wang & Zhu, 2003). Even Deng Kun Yan, the art warehouse pioneer in Shanghai, self-ridiculed, “I never thought that what pushed me onto the international stage was not my design, but a warehouse” (Zeng, 2005). Instead of changing people's perceptions of contemporary art, Suzhou Creek artists perhaps had exerted more influence on transforming people's notion of what constituted a city's heritage, although their influence here was quite unconscious.

Fighting Bulldozers

No sooner had some artists got established than they were confronted with the fate of eviction. The success of the Suzhou Creek cleaning project and the burgeoning cultural economy added attractiveness to the Creek area, which real estate developers were quick to spot. At that time, the Shanghai Municipal Government was under great pressure to recover part of the river cleaning cost and to raise money for later phases of the project. Under such circumstances, selling land along Suzhou Creek was a convenient solution. Also, in the Chinese context, individual companies are de facto owners of urban industrial land5 and most of the restrictions on land disposal are imposed by land-use planning.6 However, China's land-use planning system is not very responsive to the rapid pace of change, particularly in economically robust cities like Shanghai. The land-use rights for a lot of industrial land along Suzhou Creek had already been sold to the developers by individual companies before new land-use planning was made and approved (Lu, 2004), in the era prior to the river cleaning project. Conservation of heritage buildings was at that time only of secondary importance, since most designated conservation sites were either high-class signature or landmark buildings or high-quality li-long houses. The value of industrial heritage was not very well recognized.

Without the protection of city plans, many warehouse buildings were under the threat of bulldozers. Since the river cleaning project had been undertaken, dozens of 30-story plus residential high-rises with delicate landscape designs had been planned close to the Creek (Figure 2). These gated communities not only would displace many old warehouses but also block public access to certain part of the Creek. The new development projects were marketed to the middle and upper middle class urban dwellers as waterfront lifestyle condominiums, with some of them commanding top prices in Shanghai's overheated property market (Zeng, 2004).7 In a market setting, land is allocated to the highest bidder and without any government intervention, displacement of the financially weak is inevitable. It was ironic to see that the advent of artists had driven away poor migrant workers; but this time, it was the artists that were to leave.

Figure 2 Old industrial spaces on Suzhou Creek: Surviving in a sea of high-rise condominiums. Source: Photo taken by Sheng Zhong on 23 May 2006.

Compared with the earlier migrant workers, the artists were not only more self-aware, but also far better educated and socially connected; therefore, they were able to mobilize more resources to protect their working space. For example, many artists had overseas education or experience and some of them had connections with government officials or media workers.

Faced with the impending eviction and relocation, some of the artists firmly held out. They wrote letters to the Municipal Government expressing their concerns about the new development. Their arguments mainly came from two perspectives. First, unchecked property development could erase the industrial history of the city and wipe out the valuable industrial heritage that could never be reproduced. As two historic conservationists wrote: “We are losing more than warehouses; we are losing history, culture, spirit and feeling” (Han & Zhang, 2004, p.2). Secondly, the new development could undermine the burgeoning cultural economy that served not only as the city's new tourist attractions but also as the growth engine of the new urban economy. These two arguments, suggesting both the intrinsic (cultural) value and the spill-over benefits (economic and financial) of industrial heritage, combined to make a good case for conservation.

In addition, many artists, particularly those who had overseas experience, used the SoHo case to illustrate how heritage conservation could result in a win-win outcome for both the heritage conservationists and the economic boosters.8 Among these artists, Deng Kun Yan, the pioneer of Suzhou Creek art warehouses, was among the most vociferous and active. His proposal for heritage conservation, which called for the complete conservation of all industrial and warehouse buildings along the Creek, was one of the most progressive, and his mastery of social skills and exercise of tactics were said to be instrumental in gradually tilting the Municipal Government's attitude toward the city's industrial heritage (Zeng, 2005).

In addition to the pleas made by the artists, the effect of media attention including exposure in the international media cannot be underestimated. The Municipal Government was quite conscious of its image in this global age. Therefore, the media, and particularly the foreign media, was something that the government could not afford to neglect. Deng's accomplishment in pushing the conservation issue onto the Government agenda was said to be achieved by harnessing this influence (Zeng, 2005). In addition to the efforts of the artists and the mass media, many scholars (especially sociologists and historians), professional architects, planners and even some government officials joined the pro-conservation camp.

The Municipal Government gradually realized that the old plan was inadequate in addressing the issue of historic conservation. Although construction never stopped, new development applications were temporarily suspended in 2001. At the same time, the government began to consider a new approach that would be more “lenient” to the industrial heritage. After an international consultation process in 2002, a new plan emerged, reducing allowable development density to some degree and adding more open space along the river. More importantly, 20 more old buildings, including a few industrial heritage sites, were added to the conservation list in addition to the original 28. An area with a high concentration of warehouses was designated as the Warehouse Conservation District, making demolition of protected buildings less likely. This was particularly true after the Conservation Regulations Regarding Shanghai's Historic Cultural District and Excellent Historic Buildings took effect after January 1, 2003.9

However, the new plan was still a far cry from the more progressive “ideal” plan proposed by Deng. There were more industrial heritage buildings with high aesthetic and cultural value than those that had been included in the official conservation list. These non-listed sites tended to command lower rents because of factors such as building quality or location (Han & Zhang, 2003). According to the government, the plan had to place the need to conserve historic buildings against the requirement of balancing the budget and improving the living standard of Shanghai residents. Therefore, the new plan did not solve the conservation issue, it simply softened it up. The fate of many Suzhou Creek heritage buildings still had to depend on the ad hoc efforts of the conservationists. Over the subsequent years, it turned out that development interests still exerted very strong influence in shaping the new landscapes of Suzhou Creek.

Two warehouse buildings at 1131 and 1133 West Suzhou Road (the “Red Houses”) formed two of the many casualties of the new plan's approach (Han & Zhang, 2003). Despite strong protests from the artist occupants and other conservation voices, the “Red Houses” were finally torn down, forcing many artists to relocate to 50 Moganshan Road (M50), an old textile firm that had gone bankrupt (the area was renamed Chunming Industrial Park after restructuring). However, at the time of relocation, M50, together with a few other old industrial buildings nearby, were still under the threat of demolition.

Conservation crusaders at that time were painstakingly making efforts to save the threatened buildings. For example, Han Yuqing and Zhang Song, two heritage conservationists and university academics, mobilized their research teams, scholars, journalists, the management of Chunming Industrial Park and their supervising state organizations, to publicize the issue. They registered complaints with the Municipal Government and held talks with officials from Shanghai Urban Planning Administration Bureau. They sent their research reports, theses, feasibility studies and photos to the authorities to make a case for conserving and reusing the industrial heritage. They took advantage of a TV crew that was filming a special program about Suzhou Creek, and contacted radio stations and major newspapers, including Wenhui and Jiefang Daily (the latter being the government mouthpiece) to get the case for conservation across to the general public (Han & Zhang, 2003). The conservation efforts somehow paid off. Three well-designed warehouse buildings on Monganshan Road and buildings at M50 were saved, at least temporarily.

Nobody anticipated that the “accidental” relocation of artists to M50 and the subsequent conservation efforts would make M50 one of the biggest and most well-known “creative industry clusters” in Shanghai today, with a large concentration of influential art studios and galleries there. Yet it was transformed over the following years, not only tilting the government's attitude toward old industrial sites further in favour of conservation, but also persuading numerous emulators, mostly companies involved in restructuring state-owned enterprises, to conserve and renovate rather than demolish their old industrial buildings. Today, about two thirds of the 75 government designated “creative industry clusters” sit on the city's old industrial sites.

Epilogue

Suzhou Creek case should be read as a mixture of failure and success. It was a disgrace to see many of Shanghai's old warehouses and factories finally trampled by bulldozers. The displacement of many powerless migrant workers is also something that should not be forgotten. However, there were also positive components to the changes. Perhaps the most significant is that more and more local citizens have begun to realize the multi-dimensional nature of historic conservation and have started to appreciate the cultural values of industrial heritage, looking beyond aesthetics and age to the stories left behind by previous generations who have used the space. Unlike the elitist landmark or signature buildings, in today's highly commercialized context the practical conservation of industrial heritage is dependent on finding an economic justification for preserving the past. In other words, the rivalry between conservation and development needs to be dissolved. This is exemplified by the relationship between the regeneration of Suzhou Creek's industrial buildings and the burgeoning cultural economy in the area.

China's open-door policy and unprecedented economic growth have no doubt created a lot of obstacles for historic conservation, which take the form of intense development pressures. On the other hand, opening up has also uncovered many new ideas about conservation. A big force in favour of the conservation of Shanghai's industrial heritage has come from overseas, including foreign artists, foreign media and most importantly, Chinese returnees from abroad. To the policy makers in Shanghai, the story of SoHo as well as other similar western cases, provided the most convincing arguments for conservation.

In addition, the Suzhou Creek case also suggests that successful heritage conservation in Shanghai depends on multiple sources of support and cooperation with space users, experts, media, citizens and public officials all playing a role. But, on the other hand, personal influence is no less important. Deng Kun Yan's role in Suzhou Creek's industrial heritage conservation was catalytic and instrumental. Far more industrial heritage buildings might have been torn down if not for his painstaking efforts. Thus his work has won him both respect and recognition. On 30 October 2004, Mr Deng was awarded the Asia-Pacific Heritage Awards for Cultural Heritage Conservation by UNESCO (Zeng, 2005).

SHENG ZHONG

JIAN ZHOU

Tongji University, Shanghai, China

Heritage Conservation in China's “Instant City”—Shenzhen

Shenzhen: a Young City with Rich Heritage?

Shenzhen is envied by competitor cities for many reasons: for being the most successful Special Economic Zone (SEZ) in China, for the beautiful cityscape, and for its sizeable revenue. However, when it comes to city heritage, young Shenzhen, has been described as a “rootless metropolis” or a “culture desert” (Huang, 2001, p. 49; Yu, 2000, p. 55). In most people's minds, and even in some researchers' accounts, Shenzhen was merely a small farming and fishing village before China's open door policy in 1978 (Bruton, Bruton and Li, 2005, p. 228; Ma, 2004, p. 242; Sui & Zeng, 2001, p. 39). However, is this really the case?

According to some recent archaeological findings (Zhang, 1997, pp. 64–69, 138–147), in 1978 Shenzhen was by no means a blank sheet without history. As early as 331 AD, in the Eastern Jin Dynasty, the Nantou Town (Figure 1), now within the Nanshan District, was a station for the Bao'an county government, serving as an administrative and development hub of the Pearl River Delta. Also the 600-year old Dapeng Fortress (Figure 2), now within the Longgang District, was one of the most important military bases in southeast coastal China during the Ming and Qing dynasties. On its southern border, the 250-m Sino-British Street, now within Yantian District (Figure 3) witnessed the century-long colonial history of Hong Kong and is now a hot tourist attraction for its “one county, two system” streetscape. In fact, Shenzhen is the best and arguably the most important living monument to China's economic reforms and open door policies. Despite Shenzhen's location in the far south, which has led to its marginalization by the Central Government, and despite its lack of a heritage as ancient as those found in old capital cities such as Beijing or Xi'an, Shenzhen is, nevertheless, a culturally important city, rich in Lingnan1 relics as well as recent socialist economic reform heritage.

Figure 1 Entrance of Nantou Town, Nanshan District, Shenzhen. Source: Photo taken by Weibin Liu, June 2008.

Figure 2 Dapeng Fortress, Yantian District, Shenzhen. Source: Photo taken by Weibin Liu, August 2008.

Figure 3 The Sino-British Street, Yantian District, Shenzhen. Source: Photo taken by Weibin Liu, October 2008.

Rather surprisingly, most of Shenzhen's citizens know very little about this; some even consider that there is no heritage in Shenzhen. Up to 1996, Shenzhen had only one museum with less than 22,000 exhibits, a mere 2% of the collections owned by the Shanghai Museum (Huang, 2001, p. 51). The picture cannot be more stark: on the one hand Shenzhen has a unique and proud heritage, yet on the other hand it is often described by researchers as a city built “from scratch through razing pre-existing villages” (O'Donnell, 2001, p. 429) where wealthy local governments and citizens are indifferent to the need of heritage conservation. Against this background, this paper attempts to answer the following questions:

•	What was the state of heritage conservation when Shenzhen was first established as the “experimenting ground for economic reforms” (Shenzhen Museum, 1999, p. 22)?
•	Has the government attempted to reconcile heritage conservation with economic growth in the past three decades? If yes, what is the reason behind such intervention? Is the commitment to conservation genuine or just a cynical way of marketing the city?
•	Is there a heritage identification problem in Shenzhen? Is it possible to build the place identity of Shenzhen through heritage conservation?

Conservation Versus Development in Shenzhen

Shenzhen has undergone several phrases of economic and social development in its three decades of existence since 1980 (Ng, 2003, pp. 430–435). As a consequence, several stages of heritage conservation can be identified, by reference to changing ideas about the city's economic development.

1980–1988: Minimal Heritage Conservation Efforts

At the beginning of its establishment in the early 1980s, Shenzhen got a direct loan of just 30 million RMB from the central government (Shenzhen Museum, 1995, p. 44). Most of its initial urban construction investments were “from central ministries or state owned entrepreneurs from other provinces that were eager to capitalize on the preferential policies offered” (Ng & Tang, 2004, p. 201). Naturally, this profit-searching capital went mostly into lucrative export-led industries or the real-estate sector. As a newly built city, Shenzhen at that time lacked not only necessary urban facilities such as hospitals and schools but also basic physical infrastructure for production, a situation that deterred many potential overseas investors (Ng, 2003, p. 433). Facing these difficulties, the pragmatic government adopted a “basic construction first” approach to build the Special Economic Zone in order to attract and retain the badly needed talent and investments to turn it into a fully functional city. Hence budgetary allocation for heritage conservation was minimal. According to Huang (2001, p. 51), the average expenditure on heritage conservation in Shenzhen was less than 0.2 million RMB per year before 1990. It was not until 1992, 12 years after the establishment of the SEZ that the Heritage Management Office was established under the Bureau of Culture in Shenzhen.

Fortunately, large-scale urban construction works in Shenzhen had not wiped out all the heritage in the city by this point. The reason for this is that the Municipal Government of Shenzhen had been aware of the importance of heritage to a distinguished city (Huang, 2001, p. 50). Furthermore, except for the villages in the urban areas, the Government has the authority to control all land resources and possesses absolute decision-making power on the planning and development of individual projects, providing it with the strong leverage that is needed to play a more proactive role in heritage conservation.2 For instance, by the end of the 1980s, the Shenzhen government had made a conservation plan for the Old Dongmen Commercial Zone where 300-year-old Qing Dynasty buildings can be found (Zhu, 2000, p. 44). Although the plan was eventually set aside for the lack of financial support, it can still be deemed an initial step by the government towards urban heritage conservation.

Weibin Liu

Mee-Kam Ng

Department of Urban Planning and Design, Faculty of Architecture, University of Hong Kong

1988–2000: Development to Spur Growth

The development context changed substantially in 1988 when Shenzhen commercialized its land resources (Yeh & Wu, 1999, p. 207; Zhu, 1996, p. 192). The exchange value of heritage sites escalated as the amount of land resources in Shenzhen dwindled during the urbanization process. Meanwhile, the city government of Shenzhen began to delegate more and more development rights to district level governments. Since they were competing with one another, these lower level district governments had to be more and more “entrepreneurial” (Hubbard, 1995; Yu, 1997), and quickly became “growth machines” (Molotch, 1976).

While the heritage conservation policy at the city level was clearly set (Zhu, 2000, p. 44), most of the specific conservation and renewal plans (except for a few several privileged ones at the national and provincial levels) were formulated and implemented at district level. To many local government officials, heritage buildings were regarded as barriers to investments. Some even identified the redevelopment of a heritage district as a modernization process, and one that offered officials a shortcut to promotion within the bureaucratic hierarchy. As a result, heritage areas suffered severe losses in the course of massive (re)development, especially in the downtown areas that possessed enormous redevelopment potential. It is estimated that there were about 100,000 heritage buildings in Shenzhen in 1980. However, only 10%, about 10,000 heritage buildings were preserved by 2006, the other 90% having been destroyed in the construction spree of the 1990s.3 According to Zhu (2000, pp. 44–45), the planning control on heritage buildings was practically ignored by the developers in the 1990s. For instance, when the Luohu District Government formulated the redevelopment plan for the Old Dongmen Commercial Zone, the floor area ratio (FAR) stipulated in the original conservation plan of the late 1980s for the heritage zone was no more than 2.0, a measure to protect its historical texture. However, in practice, developers managed to obtain a 4.0-6.0 FAR after bargaining with the local officials.

“Development is an absolute principle (fa zhan cai shi ying dao li)” (Deng, 1993, p. 377): this famous saying by the late Deng Xiaoping, chief architect of China's open door policy and economic reforms, has always been the motto of economic growth for the people in Shenzhen. Yet, in Deng's account, “development” carries a deeper meaning: it is not just about material growth but also includes spiritual aspects (Deng, 1993, p. 152). However, with the rapid disappearance of historic relics in Shenzhen, especially after the land commercialization processes that started in 1988, we can see that the meaning of “development” came to be restricted to economic growth, with the multiple meanings of Deng's remark ignored in favour of a reading that allowed local governments to pursue material growth.

Weibin Liu

Mee-Kam Ng

Department of Urban Planning and Design, Faculty of Architecture, University of Hong Kong

2000–onwards Awakening to Conservation Needs or Just Tricks of City Marketing?

The negative effect of such a failure to balance economic development and heritage conservation was quickly realized. The assertive Shenzhen Government began to feel the downside of its deficiency in heritage protection as it struggled to market the city. According to Yu Wanjun, the former Chief Planner in the Planning and Land Resources Bureau in Shenzhen, the city's application for “National Garden City” status in 2000 was turned down by the State Council for its poor score on city heritage.4 This has changed the government's attitudes towards the role of heritage conservation in maintaining the city's competitive edge, and since then, many remedial measures have been taken to boost archaeological excavation and heritage conservation, showing the city's eager attempt to shed its “rootless” image. After a comprehensive survey in 2001, an additional 54 archaeological areas and 1,324 heritage buildings were discovered in Shenzhen.5 Resources have been channelled towards conservation: a total of 57.9 million RMB (290 times more than the budget spent in 1990) was used on heritage protection and maintenance in Shenzhen during 2007.6 Last but not least, 2005 saw the inclusion of 55 historic sites in Shenzhen in the boundary of the Purple Line, which was purposely introduced as a legal instrument to protect important relics.7 Compared with the “soft” conservation plan which could be altered by market forces, this effort has finally placed some of the conserved areas under legal protection.

Judging from the above figures, it seems that Shenzhen has awakened to its own conservation needs after 20 years of rapid economic growth. However, it remains to be seen to what extent this represents a genuine commitment, and to what extent it is merely a ploy to market the city. In 2003, Shenzhen was heavily criticized when it applied for the “National Famous Historic City” status, with the move regarded as a trick by the government to reap yet another title to add to its long list of tourist credentials. In 2007 after Shenzhen won the bid to host the 21^st Universiade 2001, a huge budget was unexpectedly allocated to the long-neglected Hakka walled houses (ke jia wei wu) conservation project (Figure 4) in Longgang District where the main stadium of the Universiade 2001 will be built—another piece of evidence that heritage conservation in the city is playing a supporting role to city marketing.

Figure 4 Longtian Hakka walled house, Longgang District, Shenzhen. Source: Photo taken by Weibin Liu, June 2006.

Building Place Identity through Heritage Conservation?

In contrast to other historic cities in China such as Beijing or Nanjing, which local families have often inhabited for generations, Shenzhen's citizens comprise a very unusual demographic. The city's total population has grown dramatically from less than 0.31 million to more than 12 million since the city's establishment in 1980.8 However, due to the rigorous Household Registration (Hukou) system, up until 2006 only 1.96 million of the population were actually registered as permanent residents, while more than 10 million residents (5/6 of the total number) were defined as migrants.9 Naturally, it is not easy for these migrants from different inland provinces to identify with the local ancient historic heritage. In the eyes of many of them, culture of the Lingnan district (including Shenzhen) has been marginalized by Central China and hence is considered inferior in terms of the development and heritage value when compared to the traditional and orthodox culture found in North China. Therefore, except for a few ancestral halls which are well conserved and protected in some local communities (often urban villages) most of the ancient folk houses and primordial government buildings are not favourably viewed or cherished by the migrant society. This discriminatory cultural attitude can clearly be seen from the success story of the sales of “Village 5”. An upper-middle-class estate project by Vanke (a star property company with headquarters in Shenzhen), styled Village 5, consists of nostalgic villas of Huizhou style and a delicate Qing Dynasty Club House, entirely relocated from Anhui Province, one of the wealthiest provinces in ancient China (Zhao, 2005, pp. 134–137).

The problem of a lack of identification with local heritage probably stems from the traditional conception that cultural value can only be found in places with ancient history. There is no doubt that Shenzhen pales in comparison with Beijing or Xi'an in these terms, and hence its heritage is not valued. However, from a macro-historical development perspective, as China's most successful Special Economic Zone, Shenzhen's comparative advantage lies precisely in its 30 years of economic reform and open door history. More importantly, this living heritage is created anew each day by the migrant inhabitants and therefore should be conserved as part of the collective memory. Indeed, according to Zhang (1997, pp. 45–47, 52–54, 75–80), the story of Shenzhen is a story of immigration: there had been three waves of immigration in the place's ancient history, all were instrumental in spurring local developments. The fourth wave has begun since China's economic reforms in the 1980s. These migration episodes should be documented to produce a grand narrative of Shenzhen's history. By doing so, not only would the relics from recent economic reform be acknowledged and protected in a timely fashion, but the migrants' identity with Shenzhen as a place with a rich heritage could also be enhanced.

Actually, Shenzhen has already started conservation efforts along this line. In 2005, “10 Heritage Buildings” were elected to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the establishment of the Shenzhen SEZ.10 All of them were built after 1980. The youngest one, the only statue of Deng Xiaoping in China, at the Lotus Hill Plaza, was completed in 2000, five years before the poll. The others include the Guomao Edifice, Diwang Edifice, and the Shanghai Hotel, buildings widely identified by the citizens as respective symbols of the “new speed, new height and new phase” of Shenzhen's golden age of urban development in the economic reform process. Given the city's track record, we can expect more creative efforts will be made by the government and its citizens in connecting its present with its past heritage in the future.

WEIBIN LIU

MEE-KAM NG

Department of Urban Planning and Design, Faculty of Architecture, University of Hong Kong

Acknowledgements

The author would like to acknowledge the Leung Kau Kui Research and Teaching Endowment Fund—Teaching Grants for sponsoring this small project.

Notes

 1. Geographically, Lingnan covers areas south of five east–west running mountain ranges including Hunan, Jiangxi, Guangdong, Guangxi and Fujian provinces, as well as the Hong Kong and Macau Special Administrative Regions, and Taiwan. The Lingnan culture is very different from the culture found in the cradle of the Chinese civilization surrounding the Yellow River and the Central Plains. The colourful, pragmatic, open and creative Lingnan culture finds it roots in historical rural and seafaring cultures typical of southern China and has been enhanced and enriched by cultures from Central China and overseas, especially since the age of exploration (He, 2005; OCE, 2007).

 2. Since establishment, Shenzhen has undergone rapid urbanization during which many rural villages were “annexed” into the city proper. Scholars in China coin them “villages within city” or “urban villages”(Yan & Wei, 2004; Chung, 2007).

 3. Source: Southern Metropolitan News, available at: http://www.upla.cn/news/_contents/2006/07/52-3336.shtml (accessed May 2008).

 4. Source: Urban Planning Net, available at: http://www.upla.cn/news/_contents/2006/07/52-3336.shtml (accessed May 2008).

 5. Source: Dayoo News online, available at: http://www.dayoo.com/gb/content/2001-11/18/content_278028.htm (accessed in May 2008).

 6. Source: Guangdong Culture Department online, available at: http://www.gdwht.gov.cn/shownews.php?BAS_ID = 20831 (accessed January 2009).

 7. Source: Shenzhen Planning Bureau, Online, available at: http://www.szplan.gov.cn/main/csgh/zxgh/zxgh/a.htm (accessed May 2008).

 8. There are several versions of statistics about the actual resident population in Shenzhen. Official statistics in 2006 showed that there were around 8.5 million (Shenzhen Statistics Bureau, 2007, available at: http://www.sztj.com/pub/sztjpublic/tjsj/tjnb/default.html, accessed May 2008). However, nowadays most local researchers and planners believe this figure has exceeded 12 million.

 9. Source on permanent residents: Shenzhen Statistic Bureau, online, available at: http://www.sztj.com/pub/sztjpublic/tjsj/tjnb/default.html (accessed May 2008).

10. Source: Southern Metropolitan News, available at: http://www.southcn.com/NEWS/dishi/shenzhen/ttxw/200510300047.htm (accessed May 2008).

1. Another large industrial agglomeration that was developed during roughly the same period of time in Shanghai was located downstream of Huangpu River near the estuary of Yangtze River in Yangpu District.

2. “Li-long” housing, meaning alley housing literally, was a peculiar housing style in Shanghai during the concessionary period. The style combined features of traditional Chinese housing and western terrace housing. Compared with old li-long housing, new li-long housing has “a fine architectural style, high standard, wide rooms, compact layout, bathroom, kitchen and other fittings complete, peaceful environment, in relatively wide lanes” and was built to meet the need of more affluent classes (Han & Zhang, 2003, p. 20).

3. The tycoon, Du Yuesheng, was also a head of the “Qing Gang”, an active underground gang organization in Shanghai before the 1949 China.

4. Another factor contributing to the rent increase was the demolishing of some warehouses in the urban redevelopment projects, and this will be discussed later.

5. In theory, urban land in China all belongs to the state. However, under the old central planning system, industrial land was administratively allocated to the state-owned enterprises (SOEs) for free. These SOEs are today's de facto owners of industrial land and they can make decisions with regard to land disposal.

6. In the Chinese context, many land-use restrictions only exist on paper and in reality, real control of land use can be relaxed in the planning application and development stages.

7. The rent for Suzhou Creek warehouses was about 0.4 RMB/day/m² at the turn of the century, and by 2003-2004, newly developed apartments along the Creek were already sold for 11,000-22,800 RMB/m² (about 1300-2700 US$/m²) (Zeng, 2004).

8. But SoHo's later gentrification was not cited as a failure story by the artists because gentrification was not generally perceived as a problem at the time. Instead, “upgrading” of urban industries and improvement of physical landscapes were regarded as an advancement to modernity to which the city had long aspired.

9. The regulation was passed on 25 July 2002 in the 41^st Meeting of the 11^th Standing Committee of Shanghai People's Congress.

1. The paper was originally written in Chinese. The English translation was witten by Lucille Leung and edited by Mee-Kam Ng.

2. Shanghai-style residential lane houses.

1. The idea of “man eating institutions and rites” comes from “A Madman's Diary” (1918) (in Chinese) written by Lu Xun (1881–1936), one of the most important founders of modern Chinese literature. “A Madman's Diary” likens feudalistic values as captured in the ancient Chinese texts as a kind of “cannibalism”, resulting in “men eating men”.

2. Shanghai, available at: http://www.unescap.org/esid/psis/population/database/chinadata/shanghai.htm (accessed April 2008).

3. Official statistics in 2006 showed that there were around 8.5 million people in Shenzhen, two million of which were permanent residents, that is, residents with household registration in the city (Guangdong Statistics Bureau, 2007, available at: http://www.gdstats.gov.cn/tjnj/table/04/e4_5.htm (accessed February 2008). However, practising planners have repeatedly suggested to the author that the real size of the population has exceeded this figure by millions.