Beware of Deer

Although ToDaiJi, the "Big East Temple" of Nara, the capital that immediately preceded Kyoto, is unquestionably the major landmark and attraction of its constituent site, the natural population of wild deer that congregate in and around the site are apparently of significant cultural value, as Japanese lore indicates deer as the first creatures to communicate and follow the teachings of the Buddha. From the great profusion of these deer has emerged a delicate pas-de-deux between unwary visitors brimming with excitement at the prospect of interacting with deer that lack the usual skittishness, and the deer themselves, who are weirdly aggressive and easily provoked by the prospect of food.

Visitors expend an extensive amount of time petting and feeding the deer and discovering an undue response of violence, particularly when food is not distributed quickly. Nearly all of the vendors who have set up shop along the North-South axis of the temple's main way sell bundled packages of deer biscuits, which tourists and local visitors alike gleefully purchase in hopes of prolonging their ability to command the attention of hordes of ravenous deer. Much to the dismay of these over-enthused visitors, the deer are prone to a list of unsavory behaviors, which occur frequently on warning signs distributed in variety throughout the site:

Let the Show Begin!

Have you very been to a theater? Enjoyed a night of brilliant broad way show? To put up an entire show is not an easy task. The staging is the most important thing, from all the elaborate lighting, audio speakers, layers of stage props and backgrounds, even to the cloth, makeup and hairstyle of the actors and actresses. All the backstage hard works all pull together during the show just to bring the audience from the seat the best of the people on the stage. The backstage hard work does not only happen in broad way, but also on architecture. But in this case, the stage becomes the site, and the main character performing on the stage is the structure itself.

This notion of staging of architecture can be seen everywhere as a method of objectifying and a way of preserving the historical structure. The most significant example of staging of architecture happens in Kyoto, the Kinkakuji (金閣寺) Temple. The temple structure is sited beside a small lake. The intention of siting is obvious, which is to create the reflection of the structure on the lake surface. Visitors to Kinkakuji are all guided to a platform across the lake from Kinkakuji, where marks “Photo Area”. Just like the audience seating area in the theater, standing at this “Photo Area” can help capturing the structure and the reflection without any thing blocking. This lake of reflection serves like a stage prop that amplify the beauty of the golden pavilion. Nature becomes the makeup for the structure. Kinkakuji is famous for its fall and winter view. The red and orange color of the Japanese maple tree during the fall season embellished the golden color of the pavilion. The white color of the winter snow laced perfectly for the golden pavilion. There are series of postcard images creating the symbolic and iconic imagery of the golden pavilion. This notion of facading a stage setting is successfully used to attract tourists and boost up the commercial value of the old structure. Objectification through staging is a powerful tool to achieve the goal of preservation and commercial success.

survival strategy v - orientation

above are satellite images of kyoto and edo (tokyo), respectively. both cities have, or have had, the honour of serving as japan's imperial capital, yet the organisation of both cities are vastly different from each other. kyoto's axial orientation stems from china's ancient capital, chang an (xi'an) - in fact, the original city is a scaled replica. on the other hand, tokyo's centrifugal sprawl is more similar to beijing, with the imperial palaces of both cities located at a central focal point. the four cities kyoto, tokyo, xi'an, and beijing have one important common characteristic in that they have all at some point in history been the seat of power for the emperors of their respective nations, and the orientation of their plans is derived from the orientation of the plans of their imperial palaces.

at kyoto (and at xi'an), the emperor was situated at the northernmost end of the cardinal north-south axis running the length of the city. from this position, symbolising the all-powerful north star, the emperor could safely hold court from the literal and hierarchal apex of his palace while being protected by a procession of gates along the axis and flanked by pagodas. the rest of the city is an extension of this organisation, with expansion occurring primarily along the north-south axis. furthermore, the careful positioning of the city plays testament to the chinese system of feng shui, with mountains to the north, east and west for protection. with the only possible entrance being from the south, all visitors must symbolically "face" the emperor when entering the city. additionally, the largest mountain is located to the north-east of the city to ward off demons, and the river flowing through the city was artificially altered to flow from north-east to south-west to represent the "cleansing" of evil from the city.

on the other hand, at tokyo (and at beijing), the emperor was situated in the centre of his palace, surrounded by protective moats and walls. the rest of the city grows spirally from this central point, as in a powerful explosion - the expansion is driven by a seemingly "natural" force rather than governed by a pre-determined, planned grid as in xi'an or kyoto. visitors seeking an audience with the emperor must still enter from the southernmost entrance, but instead of being at the apex of the procession, his central positioning symbolises his location at the very "centre of the universe."

The Boundary of Authenticity

The gilded temple that you see above was built in 1397 and has survived through centuries of warfare and bombing till now. The gold leafing on the building is all original and it has not lost its original splendor through the ages. Unlike other buildings, kinkakuji seems to have survived beyond all odds and persists to the present day so that the citizens of the world may have a glimpse into the past. This building is 100% authentic, untouched since the day it was built and looking just as good as it did back then. Isn't that such a wonderful story? Personally I think it is very amazing for a building to survive hundreds of years considering it is built of wood, prominently located so that it is prone to human theft and destruction (some may even want to take bits of gold leafing home as souvenir), and visited by hundreds of people everyday with the resultant wear and tear. Isn't it refreshing to see a building that is tectonically real, that all of the material were the original instead of a replica, a repair, or a silly reconstruction that only looks like the original from the outside? Especially since the building is gold! How precious this building is! You can clearly agree that it is a candidate for further protection and is no doubt worthy of world heritage status.

........Now what if I were to told you that I just made up a huge lie and that the building you see above was reconstructed 60 years ago from scratch and that nothing is original? Do you still want to preserve the building? We can building a couple hundreds of these all over the world with no problem. All the material is new and so it's not necessary to attempt to preserve the material. As long as we know how, we can do it again. Since we are able to repeat this process, should we attempt to preserve this building? Centuries ago, when this was first built, did they have the same thoughts as well, that we can just do it again? If the tectonic memory of it is all we need, that in the end, all we need is to see a kinkakuji is Kyoto, does its materiality need to be old? What are we preserving, the centuries old wood and gilding, or the spirit of kinkakuji? Furthermore, if even the original construction was thought to be replaceable, at what point does a building become irreplaceable? At what point does the material, the wood and gilding, becomes old enough so that we would want to preserve it for its own sake? Where is the boundary of tectonic memory, of material authenticity?

Rock Garden

The rock gardens were mainly influence by Buddhism. This rock garden is 30 meters long from east to west and 10 meters from north to south. This is a very particular garden because it does not have the usual elements that most people identify when they think of Japanese gardens. There is no trees or water. The whole terrain is cover by a layer of white pebbles, and there is 15 stones of different shapes and sizes that are place on top of islands that seem to emerged from the white pebbles. The use of the white pebbles has a symbolic representation of natural landscape giving the notion that it would be water. The white pebbles are given a pattern recalling the notion of waves of water movement. The arrangement of the 15 stones are done in a way that one can only see a total of 14 from whichever angle the garden is viewed making the viewer move around in order to see the 15 stones. The purpose of this garden was to come observe and meditate in front of the garden.

Elements that come into the water

One of the main elements of Japanese gardens is the use of water, and a lot of times the movement of the water or wherever it is positioned is made by man. It is interesting to see the relationship between water and other elements of Japanese gardens. A lot of times the water element in Japanese gardens is an element that can only be seen and the change of views as you move around the water is what makes the interaction with the other elements making you see different landscapes. However there are many times in which this interaction is more direct and it gives a notion as if the water was pulling elements to interact with it. For example in the first image it can be seen that there is an arrangement of big round rocks that emerged from one side of the land making a pathway to the other side. One does not have to go through this pathway since they can just go around to keep the same trajectory, but the position of these rocks motivates the person to go through them and have a more direct interaction with the water as they play going from rock to rock without falling into the water. In the second and third image it can be seen how supports are place into the water and trees are bent to be hold by these supports to give the notion that the trees are coming into the water; this is another example that shows the direct interaction between water and other elements of the garden.

Fushimi Inari Shrine

This is a shrine dedicated to Inari, who now serves as the god of success in business. This large shrine complex is built on the side of Mt. Inari, and Torii almost form a tunnel that follow a path up the mountain, which takes two hours to complete. All of these torii have been donated and inscribed by thankful businesses, and there are over 10,000 of them. This is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Kyoto, mostly due to the large number of torii. Mt. Inari is scared in Shintoism, stands at 233 meters, and belongs to the shrine grounds. The torii led the way into the dense forest of the mountain and to views of Kyoto higher up. The rustic setting and impressive torii-tunnel make the place unique, as the main attraction is not the shrine buildings but the mountain trails.

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TofukuJi's Hojo Garden

On our trip to the Tofukuji Temple yesterday we have visited the Kyoto Gozan, one of the five greatest Zen temples of Kyoto. The misty weather seemed to greatly enhance the effects and the serenity of the stone garden, saturating the surrounding landscape and colors alike and setting up a perfect meditative atmosphere. The entire complex is symbolic in its arrangements of rocks, moss mound, shrubs, raked gravels, and etc.

The Northern Garden is my favorite part of the complex, with shrubs trimmed to precise chequered patterns. The practice apparently imitates "Seiden," a popular way of land division practiced in parts of China. Tofukuji's rock garden is very different from Ryoan-ji's rock garden, including the shape and scale of the stones in the arrangement, the presence of the bridge over the gravel symbolizing water and the moss garden behind the main building on the north side. The East side is a continuation of the main garden semi-divided by the bridging, and the West side showcases trimmed shrubs.

The most striking similarity between Tofukuji's rock garden and the Ryoan-ji's rock garden is revealed in simplified sectional view of both of the buildings. The leveling of the floor and the roof shows the customary construction example.

Quiet Resistance

The cultural behaviors of people, particularly in Tokyo, where space for such behaviors runs at exhorbitant premiums, have often found some peculiar outlets. This results in some unusual spatial situations, as it would appear, based on the habit of building on extremely small and oddly-shaped lots or designations, that the placement of shrines to either deity or markers to commemorate the loss of a natural feature now built over, often occur in similarly small and awkward lots. We might find such shrines squeezed between comparatively large, tall, or plainly collosal structures. And based on external sources, we learned that the placement of the shrines is of the utmost importance, and often, when a developer has successfully acquired a piece of land that a shrine exists upon, the shrine might be displaced to the top of the newly built structure to preserve the placement, as that location may be a marker of filial or earthly significance. These little inklings of tranditional architecture and performance have found for themselves a meager, but stable existence among a jungle of steel and concrete. They offer a peculiar refuge and contrast from their rapidly expanding urban contexts, which provide an almost comical sense of juxtaposition.

decoration_Replication Elements

Within the Japanese garden, there are certain elements that should be looked at as they are common motifs in private/public gardens throughout Tokyo.

1. The Stepping Stones: The stones represent the geologic relationship and value the site has with the local mountain ranges. And since Kyoto is in the basin of the mountain, the rocks and stones are very important.


2. The Rock Garden: The rock garden is also of essence of pay attention to. The contrast of white with the small darker pieces help to highlight the beauty of the whiteness of the rocks.


3. Stone Lanterns: The stone lanterns are the motifs scattered around most gardens and will be something to look for in helping to identify a garden.



4. Small Totems: The little men that litter the city are also indicators of other types of Japanese gardens and shrines.

Painted Protection

It's interesting to note that preservation strategies have been put in place during the times when the buildings themselves were brand new, when their existence was asserted and their decay impossible and preservation irrelevant. Above is a picture of the brackets painted white in a Japanese temple structure at the Higashi Honganji. At first glance, this might seem like a cosmetic treatment, a whitening to preserve some sort of harmonious ideal of simplicity and purity. But really such reasoning is second-hand. At least during their first iteration, the paint themselves were formulated from brunt oyster shells. The white of the paint is no doubt the result of the calcium molecules present with the source of the material. Painting the wood white with a mineral (that is coincidentally abundant in the sea islands of Japan) was a measure put in place to deter termites, the little insects that devour wooden structures as their food source. The duality of the painting, one to physically protect and the other to aesthetically protect (maybe from the brashness of the raw wood) is exemplary for it's efficiency and subtlety. At the same time, it begs the question that if wooden structural is ephemeral, should the attempt be to preserve their ephemeral memory or their fragile physicality?



At the same time, the painted protection may be purely symbolic, as with the orange painted structures at the Kyoto Imperial Palace and the Heian Shrine. The intent of the orange color was to symbolize the sun. Somehow, through an unknown process of shinto transmutation, the structure themselves are prevented from fire. Maybe because they are already symbolically on fire? The protection here is symbolic, but the treatment is tectonic. How then, does this color protection relate to similar structure in the three cities? Does color, a tectonic material that always behaves symbolically, preserve structure? Perhaps the effect of tectonic memory and ritual should be noted for their efforts at preservation. Even if the species themselves are still prone to physical destruction, the esoteric painted protection seems to point out a logical flaw: if the original building still stands, would it not be due to the protective effect of the symbolism? Whose authority it is to say that the building still stands due to this and not that? As for tectonics, at the very least the paint job keeps it rainproof, and perhaps that's the best that I can hope for in this futile discussion for preservation.

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Xi'an City Gate Wall

Xi'an is an ancient city whose ancient defensive city walls have been renovated throughout the history. Based on the original of Tang Dynasty 7th and 11th century, it was heavily restored during the Ming Dynasty, Qing Dynasty, and then around 1983 by the people's government. Some of the more significant changes that have been made to the ancient walls are reconstruction of the destroyed East gate and the addition of the Zhalou Tower. During the Ming Dynasty, the city was extended about a quarter size toward both East and North sides to become the current size. Especially significant is the additional gates that were added to the existing single opening at the four cardinal gates.

Crown Jewels

A great proportion of designated cultural landmarks, including a great many of those protected by UNESCO and similar organizations, belong to a nation or city's political history. Each administration, and every branch of that administration, must have a structure of immense grandeur to host its activities. These motivations have produced some of the most fantastic and elaborate structures, sites, and landscapes that have ever been built, and in some cases, had never been built. These may take the form of either a government structure, or else a residence for a monarch or other political figure.

Indicating some of the most obvious examples that do still exist today, from Beijing's Forbidden City, to London's Buckingham Palace, to Versailles, or even Vienna's Schönbrunn Palace, an obvious trend emerges. Those structures which are no longer in use, or at least no longer serving their original purpose, have been converted into museums of sorts, a testament to a sort of grandeur that may or may not have expired with the progression of time. Even Buckingham Palace, which is still in use, and still serving its original purpose, is open for public viewing when the Royal family is not in residence during the Summer. And likewise, their properties in other parts of the United Kingdom, such as Windsor Castle, also permit public viewing when not in use.

In contrast, two major Imperial properties of Kyoto, the Imperial Palace and Villa Katsura, are open to public viewing only by special arrangements. The Imperial Palace may only be toured using site-designated tour guides, most of whom conduct tours in Japanese. English tours are offered only at specific times during the day. At an even greater state of restriction, the Villa Katsura may only be toured by special appointment, made through an office at the Imperial Palace, in which the candidate must present his or her passport, schedule a tour at a designated time on another day, and endure a tour presented exclusively in Japanese. Both also feature an established itinerary, which traces a pre-determined path through the exterior of the premise, forbidding visitors to stray from the path, and forbidding entrance to specific areas for no obvious reason. To ensure that no visitors detach from the group, a bouncer trails at the rear of the flock, harassing any who fall behind the group, often scolding visitors who have spent too long attempting to take pictures when the bulk of the flock have moved forward with the tour guide.

IMPERIAL PALACE

IMPERIAL VILLA KATSURA

Of peculiar interest is the utter preclusion of entrance into interior spaces. The Imperial Palace tour travels within the outer wall, but outside of the structure, forbidding entrance into any courtyards or buildings on site. The Villa Katsura tour travels through the garden and makes stops at all of the teahouses, but only comes near the villa itself near the end of the tour, without taking visitors around the villa, let alone inside of it. This provokes some confusion regarding the villa, as it is frequently advertised and described as one of the seminal works of world architecture, having received critical acclaim from such luminaries as German architect Bruno Taut, but yet, the public is forbidden to enter the structure, and is permitted only to view one angle of the structure very briefly, or else vicariously through a Phaidon monograph about the villa.

Though the purpose of this explicit and unusual preclusion remains mysterious, it may be just that sense of mystery that seems to perpetuate interest in the landmarks. As the world may not have seen the British monarchy in person very frequently, one might view their likeness in brief instances through news media or other circulating outlets. And yet, it is precisely that lack of exposure that propagates a perpetual desire and interest into the inner livelihoods of these elusive people, of whose internal affairs we are not privy to, but desperately attempt to disclose. To put it crudely, it is not dissimilar to Lost. Once we know what is in the hatch, it becomes less interesting.



Although many attempts in trying to renovate the typology of the traditional one-story house in Beijing have been done, it is questionable if such attempts have been successful or not. Different people have different takes on the topic. Some people have a nostalgic approach on it saying that Beijing's fabric of the Siheyuans is lost, a lot of communities say that the traditional lifestyle of Siheyuan and Hutongs have been lost as well, and other people say that it has been a successful project. For example the developers of Nanchizi say that the project has had positive reactions since the houses have been occupy. Although the renovation of these traditional houses has helped with the density problem, one can see the lost in the courtyard's life of traditional one-story houses. The first image shows the courtyard of a one-story house in which it is clear to see the amount of layers added into the courtyard that depicts the life of the family that lives in it, having many different objects that make part of their lives from small pots and plants to clothes, bicycles, and a ladder. The second image which is the courtyard of a Nanchizi house (two-story siheyuan) shows how the amount of layers have been lost, yet it still shows items that show the way of living of these families, but it seems more restricted and limited. The last image which is a three-story house renovation of the traditional Beijing courtyard house shows how the layers have almost disappear and it seems as if no one would be living in these house although they all have families living in them.

This three-story courtyard house was a project done in the 1980's in which a professor from Tsinghua University worked on. The idea of the house was to try to renovate the living conditions of traditional one-story courtyard house in Beijing that had been crowded in the past due to density. Traditional one-story courtyard house in Beijing used to be for just one family and when it started to be inhabit by more than one family at a time certain problems emerged like sanitary and health issues, and the quality of the place. This house uses around the same area of a traditional one-story house to provide housing for multiple families.

Protection:

Mausoleum of the first Qin Emperor (Qin Shi Huang)

Qin Shi Huangdi (259 BC - 210 BC) united many of the individual kingdoms to become the first emperor of China. He began construction of his tomb, placing on the Lishan Mountain in the south and overlooking the Wei River north. The mountain landscape is shaped like a dragon, with the tomb at the "eye" of the dragon. The emperor's mausoleum is larger than Egypt's great pyramid, and looks like an ordinary hill. Historians believe that an interior and exterior city are part of it, and that the palace well-preserved in its underground spot. The emperor had killed all the construction workers, and the mausoleum's very site concealed it from the people and prevented it from destruction. In July 2007, using remote sensing technology, researchers saw that the mausoleum contains a 90-foot tall building above the tomb, with four stepped walls, each having nine steps, and theorized it was for "for the soul of the emperor to depart."

This is the ultimate preservation, as the mausoleum has been untouched by people and its very site prevents it from erosion. The hill has eroded away, from 100 meters to 47 meters, but it has not affected the interior. It is still in the same condition it was left in, minus the obvious deterioration after thousands of years. The area is now used as a park.

An illustration of Qin Shi Huang’s tomb based on a historical documentary written by Si Ma Qian

the Chinese Way & the Japanese Way

When speaking of national historical site, such as imperial palaces and gardens, different countries employ different methodology to process and reconstruct these spaces of heritage. Modernization of the cityscape took these spaces of the old into the next level. Tourism becomes an important aspect of consideration and main target when governments are dealing with these significant spaces. China and Japan use two totally different approaches on dealing with these historical spaces. Two precedents are being compared to reveal the extremeness of both cases, the Summer Palace in Beijing, and the Katsura in Kyoto.

The Summer Palace is located in the Northern part of Beijing around the university area. In order to promote the popularity and attract more tourists into the Summer Palace, an extensive subway and bus system is developed around the palace site. As a result of the growth of popularity, legal and illegal businesses started to flourish around the palace area to bring even more tourists into the space. The Chinese focuses highly on the commercial value of the old palaces. Unlimited number of tourist entrance is allowed. Every day, summer palace is flooded with crowds of tourist groups, local stalls, and foreigners from all over the world. Due to the large crowd of visitors, historical preservation of the original fragile structure and security control become impossible. Supplements are added to the structures to give direct protection, such as glasses, plastic framings, and steel cages. Security cameras and speakers are inserted everywhere onto the structures directly. Some structures are even rebuilt using cheaper materials, or simply become a replica of the original structure.

Japanese took a totally different approach in managing their historical spaces. A clear example will be the Katsura, located 30 minutes outside of central Kyoto. Different from the Summer Palace, Katsura can only be visited with appointment. Only 50 people are allowed to get in per day, and designated visitors must sign up for different time slot. The whole tour is closely monitored with a tour guide and a security guard following behind the group. Once the visitor entered the imperial garden spaces, nothing can be touched, played or sit on. The places to stand and travel are all guided clearly through little wooden fences and stone pebbles. Due to this highly secured nature of the tour, preservation of the original structure becomes possible. In Japanese historical site, such as the Katsura, everything is preserved as their original look without any alternation, supplements or addition. Even the plantations are carefully maintained and staged as its original looks. Both the Chinese and the Japanese approach of objectifying historical spaces are successful with different value, either commercial or symbolical.

Models

In many major cities throughout China, there seems to be an infatuation with the miniature. Several models accurately represent the forbidden city in Beijing, as well as the entire city at large at a series of different scales. Above, the miniature representation of the forbidden city is so accurate, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish the real from the model. This shows a level of detail through meticulous work which rivals that of the real construction. The urban planning museum in Beijing also had several models which are so expansive, they bring a similar sense of wonder to to actually viewing the city.